It's Tiresome Being The Queen...

I was going to write some stupid bullshit about being angry and selfish
and bratty
Like on Sunday when the sales boy had to come outside and get me
Cuz I left the conservative party for sun, fresh air and grass
Like a counselor he chased me to sign some dumb ass
paperwork

I was going to write some stupid crap about getting what I want and being free and being me
Like drinking bloody mary's while these boys all consoled me
My brothers they gotta deal with my bullshit
I was going to write some stupid crap about how that shit is funny
Cuz I deserve it.

But really at the end of the day, it's lame being such royalty
It's annoying and it's tedious and so much better being friendly
It's tiresome being the queen.

I was going to write some stupid crap about love, sex and independence
while once a day my brothers run in and save me, time and time again from little bugs that crawl on my desk, and within me
and do things like clean the kitchen for me
A wretched queen suffering

Not fit for this throne
running around screaming
Scowling at the loud drunk autistic boy
who lives here alone

The brothers working overtime to make sure I stay in peace
And all I can do is talk about my freedom and not quietly
nor gracefully, slowly, embracing insanity

rock n roll

Everyone is having babies, or getting married
Something or the other
both things one world

Me? Well I've given it all up for freedom
and living and some rock n roll

And, I so don't care if you judge it
You may have money but is home really where the heart is?
Is it wher your
Love, Passion, Freedom is?

Where is your Art? Did you sell it
when you bought your house three car garage?
I pray thee did not.

One bought me an engagement ring and we
slit each others throats.
The other, well he bought me a disengagement ring.
And we laughed as we ran down the aisle
at Trader Joes.
All the way down to the Isle of Lesbos.

It's not that I'm disparaging
Nor bashing these ways of life
It's just that I traded it all
I Never idealized the wife.

It's passion, romance and desire
art and music that appeal to the flowers of my eye
in my left pupil.

The Smell

The key is to have many outlets for your swell
I've been so kind and open from here to hell
The lady she loved me and together we worked fucking well
Till one day she got mixed up, gave in to the fumes, the funk,
the dank, the smell

It's growing stronger in this house
It's wretchedness day be day
and in between there are moments where my sweetness makes way
but overall he takes and takes and once in a while some days
he'll come over to me and give me a hug and appreciative words he'll say
The smell is getting bigger almost like his giant head
To put your money where your mouth is is like breaking bread

No room for obscure art of imagination
Let's make millions together just follow me
It's all that is ever mentioned
Yes, my dear, smiling, following docile-y along
But rearing up and getting ready to take this world by song

Not saying it's a bad deal just hurts the tender ego
It's not liking to brag about talent or BS genius
But still some days it would be nice to hear it
And every day goes by those lips flapping self enigmatic
Rude remarks and subtle put downs that make one think I've had it

I'm trying not to smell the stench or let my temper flare
But the tears keep welling up in my eyes, I know this can't be fair
And in my confusion my sadness, anger and haze
I recognize their illness, emptiness, despair and malaise

Trying so hard to make it, this is all they've got
And without this giant team on board this is all for naught
Are we all friends and family, do we meet each others every need
This is his time, I say, don't be driven by your greed

The stench today gets aired out as the back door stays wide open
You gotta come and go as you please
Let the air flow in and out, let your lungs breathe in and out
Everyone must own their pain.

Best of Both Worlds

Boys and Girls
Like me, I like
being the center of attention,
The apple in your eye. I love
to be adored from the depths of the world
by many boys and many girls
That's how and why I grow.
I've loved many and they have loved me in return
Most still do
Unless their ego too big got too bruised
But those with an open mind
recognize keeping me around as a friend
is like having the best of both worlds in the end.
Those who keep an open mind
will have the best of All worlds in the end.

I have many lovers....

I have many lovers but I never kiss and tell
My lovers are my friends, and will love me till the end

They'll find their way into my heart into my head and into my soul
then find their way into my bedroom or their office or even on the phone

I have many lovers and I intend to keep it that way
But I'll never reveal their names and I'll never sweat the game

Friends until the end.

These Monsters

I'm angry at myself for creating this monster
These monsters whose heads become bigger when they're with me
I'm tired of seeing your entitled monster
Your bullshit your raven you gotta set me free
And today is the last day you'll be seeing me.
I'll be wearing my hat big rim igcognito
sunglasses no grin the bitch in me will grow
Once upon a time I let u judge me , dictate how my life was meant to be lived,
now I make all the rules bitch.
I rule my life.
I've reached my fucking NICE quota for the day, week, month, year,
fucking entire lifetime.
It's fucking birthday hour at the witching house.. when bitches and witches are birthed. I will be celebrating with my fucking biting words!

Das Boat

People on this boat, we're just trying to stay afloat
and then he puts on his white shirt and turns up his R&B techno
It's Friday night and his best friend takes hold
feeds him beer and he's the college boy too old

What he doesn't see is his friend is lonely
He's got nothing to do but disturb the peace
act like he's entitled
and take over the show

And no i'm not interested either
To be in their after glow
of this kids 9 to 5 lost-errando
Bored with life, getting drunk on a Friday night
nothing else to do
No art only a knife that sticks right
into the American dream
Into the heart, no spice, maybe even a wife
No creativity, just me and my strife.

In the heart he wants a wife
A house a baby he gripes
No creativity or style.
And no one feels my strife.