I think I've had enough of your world for today.
My head has opened up and your pictures fall like rain.
In front of my face they spin.
We were corresponding shapes like the rocks in a ledge.
Now this puzzle has been rained upon
and the corners lost their edge.
Nothing fits as it once did.
But at least we had finished at

All over this room I reign you are.
All over this room I reign you are.
All over this room I reign you are.
And what's wrong with that? Nothing I guess...

So I entertain my mind with little ticks and movie flicks.
Combinations of quirky comedies,
but they've all got romantic twists.
And when I can't forget I write.
That's how this whole thing came to be.
It helps me when I'm lonely.

All over this room I reign you are.
All over this room I reign you are.
All over this room I reign you are.
And what's wrong with that? Nothing I guess...

[Side 1]
So, I guess you're right.
I did abhor the awkward silence we endured.
And spoke a truce to stop the swell and slow
this spinning carousel.
Yet still it spun from time to time,
laced with mistrust that cracked the spine.
This feeble frame just would not hold
and sparked the drifting of two souls.
I am not ready nor deserve a line of love that can't be blurred
into a shallow blotch of lust. A dirty thought.
A pointless fuck. I never properly explained,
this bodied beauty you contain is too much for a man
to take at such an age-less feeling age.

[Side 2]
Works. This circle never works.
This cycle of the poet and his dame
who never could explain this tired plot. Insistent it would stop.
Convinced that every problem soon would rest.
That bad things at their best would fix themselves.
But those things you just can't tell.
And its taunting in this straight jacket of hope.
It blinds and it disrupts the ebb and flow.
The process of letting go.
The pattern on this strange bright lighted stage.
The stigma at this age-less feeling age.