Luring The Victim
It's called luring the victim. Tables turn. Drinks of coffee all round. Luring the victim for the price of pleasure which will turn into agony after a while. Catch the new disease. Spread the new disease. Feeling lonely tonight? Lure the victim with allure. It's got nothing to do with sex.
Luring the victim with your false eyelashes. Faked sympathy and blunt honesty. A winning mentality done with delicacy. We're all idols in the shadow of light. A promotional tool that you use all the time. But sure just look at the way you've grown to hate each other? And love? It's called boredom. You've got nothing better to do so you try to catch somebody else to share in your secret misery.
If I lure you in and give you all you want, you'll never be happy. You keep setting standards you'll never achieve. Keep striving for the perfectionist touch of type but those do not exist. And you do not exist in your mind. You only exist in the arms of someone else and you keep all the notes and the words that they said locked in your head. You'll remember all the times you made love and anyone else is just a substitute no matter how good they are. You're a sad state of affairs that love exists purely as a weapon and we're all blind to the gunshots that fire off in the distance. ( Shoot blanks? We'll keep that quiet until the next news bulletin! )
Lure the alluring, oh it's so good of you to think that it's an amazingly emotional experience that you have to reminisce about dead lovers while hanging out with the current aesthetic arm candy. You seek, you destroy......always check a man by his horoscopes. Always check a man by the shoes he wears. A facile law that works well. After a while the rules you set up turn on you and you cry off to your little night time dream.
You're scared of being attached, you're scared of those detached, sometime you'll die and you wonder why you wasted your life searching for love and responding to every question with the underlying implied context that a romantic date could appear in your dreams. Keep whingeing like a girl, because you'll read all the texts to crack the secret formula. We're so grown up in these days........last time I checked we all had the mental age of 7 years old.
Luring the victim with your false eyelashes. Faked sympathy and blunt honesty. A winning mentality done with delicacy. We're all idols in the shadow of light. A promotional tool that you use all the time. But sure just look at the way you've grown to hate each other? And love? It's called boredom. You've got nothing better to do so you try to catch somebody else to share in your secret misery.
If I lure you in and give you all you want, you'll never be happy. You keep setting standards you'll never achieve. Keep striving for the perfectionist touch of type but those do not exist. And you do not exist in your mind. You only exist in the arms of someone else and you keep all the notes and the words that they said locked in your head. You'll remember all the times you made love and anyone else is just a substitute no matter how good they are. You're a sad state of affairs that love exists purely as a weapon and we're all blind to the gunshots that fire off in the distance. ( Shoot blanks? We'll keep that quiet until the next news bulletin! )
Lure the alluring, oh it's so good of you to think that it's an amazingly emotional experience that you have to reminisce about dead lovers while hanging out with the current aesthetic arm candy. You seek, you destroy......always check a man by his horoscopes. Always check a man by the shoes he wears. A facile law that works well. After a while the rules you set up turn on you and you cry off to your little night time dream.
You're scared of being attached, you're scared of those detached, sometime you'll die and you wonder why you wasted your life searching for love and responding to every question with the underlying implied context that a romantic date could appear in your dreams. Keep whingeing like a girl, because you'll read all the texts to crack the secret formula. We're so grown up in these days........last time I checked we all had the mental age of 7 years old.
posted by Plastic Retriever at 10:49 am
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