When shooting at the wrong hoop
Standing centered dance floor
And hand made fortune cookies
Send him to the wrong brown hair blue eyes.
I felt like crap but I didn't know
The worst was yet to come
And that the worst is actually the best
That bleeding is vital
I'm a fool, a tool, face down in the pool
Following risk into the dark
Because it's the thing that feels right
And feeling right makes me smile
Too much joy to be had
Love to be lost in
To be worried about the hurt
After joy moves on and love dies.
So leave me standing, the fool
Laugh at my inexperience, the tool
Just choose you're own fate
And leave me to dance with mine
No comments:
Post a Comment
...and you may ask yourself, well...how did I get here?