Fettuccine Afredo Makes Malaise Bolognaise

Fettuccine Afredo Makes Malaise Bolognaise

Don’t think I have a pretty flow

Things just seem obstinately slow

Open hand, closed heart

I don’t even know that this is art

More like a forced rhyme

As I’m hustling double time

All I’m hearing is a whine

It was cool for awhile

It was making me smile

But I’m feeling like some kinda child

Not me, but you with gimme gimme blues

Empty pockets, broke ass news

Making me feel like a booty call

Tho you don’t know how to work it at all

Dressing up to sit alone

Preferential to pisses and moans

It’s just feeling old hat, been here before

Skeletons behind my cellar door

I don’t like the questions I’m asking

It’s not feeling in love that I’m basking

The best part is, I already don’t care

Apathy’s as easy as doing my hair

10k to see clearly, a worthy affair

Money means nothing in faces I’ve lost

You’re acting like I’m a wallet with no cost

Boredom is the word that comes to mind

I’ve done this before, so many times

Been there, done it, seen it all

My phone’s ringing, not expectin’ your call

Malaise is a word that’s in my heart

What was really awesome, you’ve fucked apart

Something about a bicycle and a fish

10 dollar bet who’s the one getting missed

Too soon for perplexing

These questions so vexing

I guess I’ll hope for some happy end

Where maybe we can just pretend

All that shit I was talking, perhaps amend

Seems simpler to me to just say friend

Am I the woman that plays this shit?

The key to success is knowing when to quit.


Theory of a Deadman – Rx (Medicate)


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