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By TJ Holland Date: 2002 Jan 06 Comment on this Work [[2002.01.06.18.27.1337]] |
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Stepping to the side of your best laid plans I threw the wrench into the works. I knew you'd accomodate my newest wishes Find the restaurant, even if you couldn't find your balls. Whipped my car into the parking lot Whipped you pussy style, when I tossed my hair. I never needed, never wanted, that unwelcome hug With jerky arms and bobbing head, akward in it's thrust. I just donned my defenses and considered it the price Of a smoother dinner. We take away things of value from every meeting And I never met a man who didn't have SOMETHING to give. No, it wasn't strength, nor individuality. Excitement wasn't up for the offing this time. You didn't have the tummy flipping ability, Or the means to make me laugh nervously. Information, Number Six. It's information that we want. -You'll never get it, Number Two. But I did. It was super cavitational torpedoes; The year it takes to refuel a submarine; The fact that you couldn't tell me how a sub is powered, Aside from the nuclear reactors, Because of the possible security breach you might commit. All talked about over Pollo en Mole And your disgustingly huge burrito. That and that alone enough to make me wince And suggest a movie. Even wait till 9:30 to catch it. A flicker of mild interest when you were willing To lay with me on the Sleep Number air bed (on sale for $1500) In the middle of the store and discuss price With the lady in pyjamas, desperate to make a sale. Only a flicker. Hell, we had an hour to kill. 'Cause at the end of the night, at the end of the road The obligatory kiss was just that. But I figured you didn't know it Judging from the way you tried to slip me the tongue. Even coming back round to my car window (my hand on the OC-10 "for law enforcement use only") And asking for the New Year's kiss we missed out on. The high price of information. The trade-off for the secrets Of the Department of Defense. |