Beginning, morning routine,
but wait a minute,
I awoke, but not to caffeine.
The cellular phone is what rang,
meanwhile same song sang,
and I can not move my arm,
it must have fallen asleep,
but no harm.
Check those messages,
catch up,
time to get a move on,
wake up.
Change of plans,
so she said,
come over later,
your brother's bed is already made.
Instead, let's have lunch.
I close my eyes at eight in the a.m.,
I reopen them at eleven,
I want to stay in bed, it's like heaven,
but there goes the alarm,
oh wait a minute,
it's almost noon--
how time flies so soon.
but wait a minute,
I awoke, but not to caffeine.
The cellular phone is what rang,
meanwhile same song sang,
and I can not move my arm,
it must have fallen asleep,
but no harm.
Check those messages,
catch up,
time to get a move on,
wake up.
Change of plans,
so she said,
come over later,
your brother's bed is already made.
Instead, let's have lunch.
I close my eyes at eight in the a.m.,
I reopen them at eleven,
I want to stay in bed, it's like heaven,
but there goes the alarm,
oh wait a minute,
it's almost noon--
how time flies so soon.
Guess I have no time,
throw some clothes on,
go have brunch,
do not keep her waiting,
get up! Lunge!
Long-sleeve layer upon layer,
where is my CD player?
Just need one disc today,
and hopefully she can play it too,
until you realized her new car has no slots for discs,
damn this new era,
boo!
Everything went fine,
so you tell yourself,
but something about today was different,
a book fell from the shelf.
throw some clothes on,
go have brunch,
do not keep her waiting,
get up! Lunge!
Long-sleeve layer upon layer,
where is my CD player?
Just need one disc today,
and hopefully she can play it too,
until you realized her new car has no slots for discs,
damn this new era,
boo!
Everything went fine,
so you tell yourself,
but something about today was different,
a book fell from the shelf.
Itch all too familiar,
starting at your temple,
going down your spine,
better consider,
nothing is coincidental,
trapped alone in his shrine.
But if whispers were cookies,
you would be chased by crumbs,
never forget the bully,
he sounds like the Jumanji drums.
And then you are covered in a fog,
but wait a minute,
we have arrived,
time for some great food,
screw his monologue.
starting at your temple,
going down your spine,
better consider,
nothing is coincidental,
trapped alone in his shrine.
But if whispers were cookies,
you would be chased by crumbs,
never forget the bully,
he sounds like the Jumanji drums.
And then you are covered in a fog,
but wait a minute,
we have arrived,
time for some great food,
screw his monologue.
But it only takes a couple of words,
for her to trigger
old memories from the past,
you are caught looking into space,
oh but wait a minute,
here is the menu at last.
And then small talk begins,
as you recognize a face,
strangers with stranger skins.
And she keeps inquiring about your life,
whether you are surpassing each strife,
and the best way you avoid her is to lie,
and then his voice whispers,
"what Mother doesn't know, won't make her cry."
for her to trigger
old memories from the past,
you are caught looking into space,
oh but wait a minute,
here is the menu at last.
And then small talk begins,
as you recognize a face,
strangers with stranger skins.
And she keeps inquiring about your life,
whether you are surpassing each strife,
and the best way you avoid her is to lie,
and then his voice whispers,
"what Mother doesn't know, won't make her cry."
She shuffles in her seat,
and asks if you are angry,
she can always tell,
no matter how much you try to hide your face,
blankly.
But then he interrupts, abruptly,
always rude,
so bluntly.
"Hello Red,"
"Hello, Editor."
And so the Apex met once more
the Progenitor.
And there it rose,
our body temperature.
However,
the Host knows better than to entertain his game,
even if his memories cause familiar pain,
because when Red whispers,
the Host will cut his tongue with scissors...
...and pin that monstrous butterfly back on his wall,
so sleep took over,
and that is today's curtain call.
and asks if you are angry,
she can always tell,
no matter how much you try to hide your face,
blankly.
But then he interrupts, abruptly,
always rude,
so bluntly.
"Hello Red,"
"Hello, Editor."
And so the Apex met once more
the Progenitor.
And there it rose,
our body temperature.
However,
the Host knows better than to entertain his game,
even if his memories cause familiar pain,
because when Red whispers,
the Host will cut his tongue with scissors...
...and pin that monstrous butterfly back on his wall,
so sleep took over,
and that is today's curtain call.
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