I speak to go.

I come in peices. There's a small pamphlet with directions and my senior picture so you know how it should turn out. Voulez-vous? Nurse, quickly!

So, the proverb writing isn't all that we'd prewritten, and the gifts we gave were unwrapped before we even bought them.

I speak to go; Go awry, Go back, go first or go bankrupt, there's no difference now.

I'd like to give. Give you away from my job. Give down, Give East, give a fix, give time.

Give you a status, or a dollar. Give your virginity. Give a holler. Give a care, Give a gift, whatever comes first on the shopping list.

They took you away and away they took you. The ''they'' you're trying to convey is just your attempt at honesty, while the rest are dead. and silent (cause they're dead.) They're dead and there they have taken what's theirs, and you think it's yours, but they know it's not, so it isn't really, I guess.

I guess they've blown a man for some asian glasses crammed on their head in a choice to pretend they're provocative. Their periods are intense and more than what you'd call "shocking" because they lead down your micro-skinnied legs and end up in your panties.

The legs of theirs were ours and yours and the toes just touched the gas pedal. They wonder why we despise BMWs and navy, the color, not the force. You're turning into they, and when you collide, I'll call an ambulance to drive.

Drive you here, drive the nail, drive your body [their body] to the hospital, I'm not sure. They're really all the same to me, or you, or they.

God's going to be welcome there, but not like "hello, please come in." It's more of a "You're welcome to say thank-you, but not to join us for tea"

I'm not surprised you'd opt for tea, it was they who rattled the locker? They who found the liquor and tattled on their stalker? Nay, it 'twas you. You who has become they. But before the we, the us, and the you, there was an I. Cannot there be an I that becomes a they, so you were never you, you were always them. It isn't particularly shocking.

What turns the light on is not what tickles their fancy, it's more of a one-person opera; With phantoms, and phonons, and phonemes, and polygons, and alleles they've sent to attack us. He becomes impaired and inherently is too left to leave.

Diamond mines he brought back that tore off his lack of finds. We cut slack. cut wrists, cut chords, cut paper, and papercut the wounds from their scissors we stole. They're pierced to know their blades aren't there anymore, they're ears aren't blank anymore.

I speak to go. Go home, go big, don't go, stop, go there, go they're, go their, It can't matter where when where becomes here and they can't spare a stare or fear.