Tweedles
by:
Residents
When you hear the clatter of the golden ladder remember that it's sadder going down
Of course it's boring after that, boring, predictable and mundane
Their apartments are all the same
There's always the same pathetic look of confusion
The same pitiful attempt to recognize the person they fucked the night before
That perfect person, that dream
That love of a lifetime, but he's gone
I got what I want, they're no longer worth the effort