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Women are the grand puppetmasters, they tie a string around your neck and then they tug leadingly, and you get out of bed with enthusiastic shiny eyes, ready to follow them through hellish catacombs of brambles which scrape across your knees and shins though you don't feel them because you're full of something called 'zeal.' But this zeal is an empty promise, as the promise of women is an empty promise. |
Copyright ©2009 Ashi Shadow -05/24/09
Inspired by the song "Her Beautiful Ideas" by The Guggenheim Grotto
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9U2N4i20Rs
(Note that it's not their promises which are empty promises, it's the promise of women, the 'hope') the last stanza was considered leaving out, wasn't sure what to write for 2nd stanza originally.
Out of bed must've been written as either resting in bed, or moping in bed, not sure which.
Possibly just getting up in morning, but I doubt it.