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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
| Pop Syndrome Grooves are also ruts. Am I supposed to love this song? If I don't, I must be wrong? How will you and I ever get along? Should I lift my voice above yours, higher in the outdoors, yet dark, dance alone on the floor? Am I supposed to dig this beat, a plain platter I should eat? You idle at the juke, while I take my seat. Angels seem sing you a melody, but for me it's a felony, no feeling. Processed meat — watery baloney. I do not have to sing along. All these years getting strong, dining on mimics that don't compare to Beethoven. But you would think they won a prize, color pop fills your eyes. But if you look deep in grooves, its just a guise. Am I supposed to sing this song, just so we all get along, even though heard a hundred times in Sweden? I won't attune to Stockholm Syndrome. Take that record and go home. I think I will comprise something more than glittery lies like a lullaby. Yeah, I changed the rhyme. 3.3.22 34 lines, rhyming edited 9.11.22 Having to listen to another Calvin Harris 'creation' I won't link. ▼ |
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