The beauty staring back drawn the night away,
That flick of the hair that made everybody pray,
Like a tsunami gushing through the dancefloor,
The pristine kids hoping for evermore.
A recluse studies intracacies,
Within the paintings and theories,
The nights gleam where you almost felt real,
Retold twice and pulled you back in.
Summertime floosies,
Kept the wind in the their sails,
Drew out the winter,
For one season of tales.
Pocket's full of protection,
Might aswell lobotomise,
Us ugly homosapiens,
As we are the aliens.
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