I'm tired and edging further into my sheets
but I've got you on my mind and today I can't help but think
that I couldn't tire of you, I wouldn't think you're a bore
I can't fathom a time when I'd enlist you as a chore
it's almost as if every time I see you, I love you more
surely this should be kept within a flaccid bind
It's incredulous to me, I'd never known I was capable
and this isn't poetic, it barely rhymes, it doesn't keep time
but it's justified
It's almost as though I can't write with a patched mind
anything sweet comes only in bitter lines
If that's the case, I don't want it, I don't want to write
I don't need it anymore.
