(yo dawgs help me edit this :afro I’ve always wanted my life to be a story a series of five acts, devided into scenes I’d open on a happy fool sophomoric, and oblivious to the now Then, out of the blue, something would happen what it is doesn’t matter perhaps his mother died, or he got some horrible disease he’d learn from his loss, and grow within it Then, an angel, daisies in her hair he’d go to her, and woo her, perhaps subdue her See through her, maybe screw her? and always for-true her Together they’d live a life of art and song but now i see that perhaps i was wrong realizing that i need no exposition a difficult admission to throw away my ambition and this insight has left me in quite the condition and my only recourse is to follow my intuition with this stark juxtaposition I submit an uncouth proposition plese pardon my rude supposition but you’re the kind of girl men make films about I know i barely know you And i know men don’t really court women with poems and prose But i refuse to let shame and shyness overcome the symphonic life For you see, on maps and roads, three hundred miles is as far as the moon but in the heart, it’s only “this afternoon” So through bad rhymes i express things i could never say And though nothing will come of it, it helps me believe now need not be yesterday So you may not be my dorothy boyd And you won’t be the sally to my harry All i know is if i had to cross a desert it’s not water, but you, i’d choose to carry
PLeb, you asked for it LOL. Here's how I would edit it. All I did was delete parts. It's all in your 'order'. LOVE INTEREST an angel, daisies in her hair he’d go to her maybe screw her on maps and roads, three hundred miles is as far as the moon but in the heart, it’s only “this afternoon” if i had to cross a desert it’s not water, but you, i’d choose to carry
