Cruising Alone

  Boy, you need gold coins and chains, To feel that silky touch. Honey, being with you meant My soul needed a retouch... You might like maple syrup, But I could never build anything with that softwood. It was like babysitting way into my adulthood... You think your presence made it feel like Niagara? Boy, it was drier than the Sahara. Who gave you the license to operate heavy machinery? You never deserved to be anywhere near this sanctuary. Asking women to "blow" you a kiss, When you are the one too "slow" to catch up, And all you are good for is a diss... You need to work because you don't know how real FORCE  works. You get high on your stupid   WARS — How would you ever know the language of the STARS ? Isn't it funny you were trying to teach  me  about fingers? When I can get myself to sing more with my  ladyfingers ...

  Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...

  So, you say you have a sister, and now you have to take care of another? That you want to live up to your father's name, and you can't read about my pain, and nothing's the same? Did you forget that your father saw his own daughter in me... when we didn't even know if we were supposed to be? And I couldn't even look in my father's eyes... because I trusted a coward's lies... while you went about building his incomplete legacy... My father's head hung low because of your discrepancy. He saw his daughter cry for years... and aren't you the one who said you hated my tears? So go on, take your glass of whiskey and say cheers... because you only made me stronger than my fears. You might have broken me and left me for dead— but always remember: I am a father's daughter. What you broke, he built every day. Blamed himself for my crooked ways. He tried to shield me when no one was around... and you thought you could laugh at me while I was on the ground...

  Did you think I wanted your shriveled-up lemons? Do you honestly believe it’s that easy to cherish my melons? I’d rather guest star on Jimmy Fallon... Than be with a guy who’s just a petty felon. Maybe you thought you had me beat in tic-tac, But I can devour you like an evening snack. You think I’m some matinee show, And you’re the one who drops the curtain - it all fades to black? Boy, you only think in terms of your software stack, Thought you owned my rack—nah, just another hack. Love calling a woman a bitch? Try replacing the b with w , switch— Then maybe you'd see who's magical, And who’s just another shrew, tragical. Maybe you only know how to feel proud of your wooden leg… What made you believe I’d ever want you to fertilize my egg?

  I wanna be your temptress, Get you down on my mattress. You be the king, I'll be your empress. I already have a clear purpose, You can trace every curve and surface. I've got one mission for you— Are you built for the secret service? Let me take a bite of that apple, Can you make me pray without taking me to the chapel? They call me a wolf, but I will bear your saddle, Make me howl like the moon's lone disciple. Either play this like a boring game of Scrabble, Or get your armor on and be ready for a passionate battle.

  With a single whisper, your pole raises a tent, And you think you're Kal-El or his alter ego, Clark Kent? A guy who thought his stick did the trick, Who thinks he’s smouldering fire—nah, just a thin wick. Not even worthy of the douchey role in a chick flick. The only way you feel like a man is when you have a thick wad of cash, Otherwise, you’re tossed out like someone's Tuesday trash. You treat a woman like a simple accessory, But can't even last long in missionary. So here’s your legacy, stamped and set— A boneless nugget—soft, limp, and easy to forget.

  One fine day, tired of "always my way," I reached for comfort, or maybe just a craving. Picked up a spotted cucumber— Seemed harmless enough, so why not? But the moment I touched it, it pricked. Unwanted timber in my hands, Yet I let it be—what else could I do? Hunger led me to peel its layers, Only to find the filth it hid underneath. Worms writhing where freshness should be, Rot, disguised as something nourishing. I thought it was doing me a favor, But all it did was make me sick. Never knew comfort could leave such a taste— Bitter enough to spill my guts out. Next time, I’d rather reach for something rich, Something warm, indulgent, and worth my time. A smooth, chocolaty éclair— Rather than ever go for such a comfortable, unhealthy affair.