from Guccigirl - Tuesday, July 12, 2005
accessed 1013 times
I'm not one to sit down and write poetry, frankly, I don't usually have the time. Anyways here are a couple of sentaments I have for/about the TF and leaving - and it kinda sorta came out in poetry form.
When do I get to sing my?
When do I get to feel like Sinatra?
When do I get to do it my way?
Will it be in Heaven or Hell?
No, there is no use in yelling at them,
or threatening them.
They will just say who are you?
Is that a question, or not?
They have seem to forgot,
Their answers are predictable not new.
Just ignore them, youll be stunned by all the things that you can do.
No, there's no use in wasting your time,
Or wasting two dimes on a call to fuck knows who.
When all you feel is the rain
You can proudly be vain
When they look down their nose's at you
So, be gracious and give them the big Fuck You!
Yes, it is a tradition they say,
Like remembering to pray
And traditions must go on.
And though I say yes, I see,
No, I really dont see how my fake smiley face belongs
So thanks for nothing, Ill just sign my name with an X and move right along.
The World introduced me Hello, hello.
Materialism and an Education seduced me
So it really wasn't that hard to go.
Even when Im feeling low,
I made the right decision and Im no longer a part of the freak show.
I have no souvenirs
From those Cracker Jack years
Now I can do anything that I choose
And have had offers that I could refuse.
So now I get to sing my way
Now I get to feel like Sinatra
Now I get to do it my way
And I dont have to wait for heaven of hell.