I found myself nostolgically watching Telemundo.
Thinking back to those first few days...
you kinda looked out for me.
Like
you had something invested.
Like I could trust you.
Trust is a pretty big thing for a neurotic kid like me.
The kind of guy that gets an overdose any time someone walks behind him
and he catches a whiff of malcontent, or a murmor of babble.
I'd like to be able to help it.
To be in my safe place all the time
but experience has taught me to be cau...
paranoid.
Paranoid is good. Paranoid is safe(r).
There was something about it
probably wasn't such a big thing to you
because it came so naturally.
There was no intent behind your words.
No secret pendulum sway to your actions.
I haven't seen or felt anything like that in years.
Like I was already in my hammock
listening to european ambient
smoldering havannah's finest in an old coffee tin.
Pilaf in the oven. Paw prints in the white sand.
Straw hat over my eyes.
Goddess at my door.
You made it alright to be me
even for just a moment.
Why can't you be mine?
Why can't this be every day?
We'll run away...
I'll burn down the outside world
so no one can steal you from me.
I'll harvest the gold of the pious pilots of the dollar.
If you hate the rain, I'll drink the offending sea.
Just give me the chance for you to give up on me.