It's not you Baby jay
That makes this foul mood so
It's the constant exposure to noxious gas
That the canary has to breath in so
It's hard to think from the constant hoodwink
From the dog eat dog info
A choice that was mine to leave behind
Has now been reintroduced and the pump is primed
What I thought was just a personal family flavor
Seems to be the world's Accent in which to savor
And it's been so long since I've tasted it's flow
That it makes me nauseous and surly so
I fuss at you in a negative degree
From just trying to escape this reality
Of Love that isn't a constant flow
But rather the one upmanship of where pride can go
A game I'd rather not play you know
Or even watch for as competitive show
Let alone repetitive of what was my long ago