So sorry to pursue you
Not proud to persecute you
But you’re the one they threw into my den
It’s been days since I last ate
Which explains my hurried gait
God only knows when I shall eat again!
Contain yourself you wicked thing
You let them pluck away your strings
And like a nightingale you sing
Whatever tune they ask
Do you have the room for me
When you host such company
Think your suitors suit you best
All lined up in twos and threes
Like kids pick on each other
As an outlet for their crush
You and I pick at each other
For the pain and then the rush
The wanting leads to something
Not sure I can explain
Like a hound gone hunting
On scent of slightest strain
The power that propels me
To follow after you
The good in you compels me
To loose my arrows true
Psych reports and waiting rooms
Prozac pills, impending doom
Growing up is hard to do
When it’s so far from your mind
Lord please bless me with some busy hands
Errands, chores, or trivial demands
Anything to keep me from a steady stand
So I don’t start thinking of her
You know your blonde locks are the gift with which you curse
While you act like you’re busy digging through your purse
Know I see the way that you poured into your frock
Know it makes me think of the key to fit your lock
Broke a kitchen table and I broke a couple hearts
Touched a couple girls in their soft and fleshy parts
Got lost in the bedroom when they shut off all the lights
Got lost in the moment with my head between your thighs
Been drawing from a shallow well
I dug some years ago
From when I was a younger man
With seed still left to sow
