Because the world is flat, Columbus died.

Let me be a pessimist for just another minute It's hard to be an optimist when my heart's not in it I know that life has a funny way of turning things around So let me be a pessimist, it hurts too much to smile right now Let me be a pessimist for just a little longer Leave me be, cease and desist, I'll tell you when I'm stronger I know that life has a funny way of making things all right So let me be a pessimist, it hurts too much to smile tonight Let me a be a pessimist if only for the weekend When Monday comes, I know I'll be, thinking with more reason I know that life has a funny way of fixing its mistakes So let me be a pessimist, it hurts too much to stay awake

My life was not chaotic It's like a new deck of cards I always knew what's coming I knew when times would be hard But ever since the day we met I guess I learned the cards could be wrong I forgot which way was north today I wasn't in a hurry anyway I'm not lost, I'm just misplaced I can't see ten feet from my own face Should I stay right where I am and wait? Hoping someone will redeem me? Hoping somebody will need me in my place? My life was not an issue Until it flipped upside-down I thought that I was grounded Turns out I fell off the ground 'Cause ever since the day we met I guess that somehow I got too proud My paycheck's in a box at HR Money only gets you so far I'm sure you know the cliche Black is white and gray is grey I'm sure you've heard it before Day is night and less is less, not more

I need to find the guy who told me To wear my heart on my sleeves And thank him for these Bloody sleeves Bloody, bloody sleeves Tell me a secret 'Cause I don't have any To call my own Put on your best shirt 'Cause I don't have any That don't look old Validate me You can hate me All you want when I leave Tell me baby Don't you want me? Can't you make me believe? Oh, pretty please, you know I want to believe A wise man once told me that knowing is half the battle Unfortunately, it's the half where the casualties die With every broken heart comes another chest rattle With every broken heart comes another "You were perfect," lie My flaws in no particular order are as follows: Too much patience in abuse, and too much honesty in love Too much impulse in reaction and too much information to swallow And I'm 23 years old and I never found a good rhyme for love I've got these bloody, bloody sleeves.

You can do it! ¡Tú puedes hacerlo!

I've got a little crushlight in the back of my head And when it makes a connection, well, it starts to blink red It makes me stop what I'm doing, try to get her attention If I can't get her attention, it still wants her attention Someone disconnect the crushlight Someone help me not to feel Someone tell the signals in my brain What's a crush and what is real Someone disconnect the crushlight Someone let me be alone Someone sever the operator's Patch through to my head phone I've got a little crushlight in the back of my brain An auxiliary function that beeps louder than main It makes my mind fill with questions of, "Would she accept me?" If she doesn't accept me, it still blinks incessantly Crushlight, my little crushlight

Middle of the week (ad nauseum)

SHUT YOUR- You say you're real into me I've heard tell of your infamy But you won't gain my sympathy If you keep playing the way that you're playing You say you ain't got time for me With all the time you spend kicking your feet But you won't gain my sympathy If you keep playing the way that you're playing Excuse me, ma'am, but I've had it up to here With the excuses that I'm hearing and I think I'm hard of hearing 'Cause the way it sounds to me is that you want to be with me But you don't want to be with me, is that right? I keep telling myself it's all right, it's resolved I keep telling myself, why don't you shut your face and- Like Juliet and Romeo Except I ain't no Romeo This isn't my first rodeo But you keep playing the way that you're playing We are not star-crossed at all But if we stand on a ledge, we'll surely fall If you want to, that's your call But I'm not playing the way that you're playing Why don't you shut your face and be my lover? Shut your face and leave.

Queen of lacrosse You caught my eye

Caiaphas knew it before he could do it He gave the order knowing well and good what it would do when Judas blew it, kissed the mark and shew it To the Roman army waiting just beyond the trees and bushes Annas, you laugh with a bite to catch the last wit But silent, you drive it, deliver him to Pilate Pilate would not have released Barabbas the Robber if you had pleased, But the heat of the moment, the fear of the mob, the dilly-dallying ceased Between the purple robe and the vinegar sponge This tortured crucifixion's just too much for anyone But if you had been Caiaphas and you knew he was the son of God And had to die to save the world, what else would you have done? Black Friday's come

I'm a restless buwawawaaaaugh

i) Nice Things Dateline: Thursday in Queens A man is writing letters seldom to be seen He writes them out for the love of his life He sees her daily, knows he wants her for a wife He showers her with affection and smiles And everything, trying to win her heart with guile She tells him no, that she simply cannot And she goes home and she gets lost deep in thought She’s afraid to be the one who loves the man more than he loves her ‘Cuz she’s been burned before and she don’t need another lover The man feels betrayed and rejected every day But the woman’s even lonelier because she won’t agree Dateline: Friday in New York He sees her strolling casually through Central Park She caught his eye and she gives him a wave She prays today’s the day she’s going to be brave He broaches the weather, suggesting a walk He hopes she’ll fall in love after a little talk She goes along but she doesn’t make a move She’s only got one heart, something she doesn’t want to lose She’s afraid to be the one to love the man more than he loves her ‘Cuz she’s been burned before and she don’t need another lover The man feels betrayed and rejected every day But the woman’s even lonelier because she won’t agree To a dance Call it a date Call it romance Or call it fate What she needs’ A helping hand Swept off her feet She needs the man Dateline: Sunday in Queens This is why we can’t have nice things. ii) Better Things Dateline: a Saturday cantina He orders coffee, black, and her number with some creamer She laughs a little and jots it on a napkin He tips her a ticket to a show that’s set to happen They sit on the grass and they marvel at the escapades The joviality and the sun beating down, they move to the shade It was the greatest Saturday they had in a while Then they shake their hands, they make other plans, say goodbye with a smile For the man knows he’s gonna be picked up, used, and thrown away So he pretends he’s not in love with her Things are better this way. Dateline: Tuesday on a sofa She’s putting on her pumps, he’s lounging in his loafers They’ve made dinner plans downtown at half past seven Forget the nines, both he and she are dressed to the elevens A casual affair, it’s what they both agreed No romance, no, no intimacy, it’s friendship that they need Is this fifty-dollar-cologne a bit too much for something simple? Does this shade of ruby lipstick bring out the best in both my dimples? Dateline: Tuesday with a couch standing by They throw their jackets off, because it’s gonna stress them out otherwise He rings her phone and tells her he’d rather stay in She says she forgot she needs to practice the violin He says come over because I’d love to hear you play She says it’s been a while but I’d love to anyway She throws on a t-shirt like she didn’t even try She plays a Bach concerto, then out of there, no time to say goodbye For the woman knows she’s gonna be picked up, used, and thrown away So she pretends she’s not in love with him Things are better this way. Dateline: Wednesday by the phone He dials her number but hangs up, he’s all alone Dateline: Wednesday by the other phone She dials his number but hangs up, she’s all alone For they both know they’re gonna be picked up, used, and thrown away So they pretend they’re not in love with the other Things are better this way! iii) Little Things Dateline: The day of St. Valentine’s Twenty houses all in a line Twenty gardens, twenty fences, twenty doors, and twenty windows and a rose On each of twenty patios Each with a little handmade note Of twenty gardens, twenty fences, twenty doors, and twenty windows, I’d forgotten quite exactly which was which But I know that of these houses, gardens, fences, doors, and windows One of them has got a you inside of it So I clipped a flower Twenty clippings, yes, to shower Every cookie cutter building on the block Be the former or the latter It’s the little things that matter I’ll be waiting by the docks at six o’clock Mm, funny what love does! Did I say love, oh we’re just friends! Be the former or the latter It’s the little things that matter Who really needs labels in the end? iv) Bigger Things Dateline: Datetime online dating The man gives the woman a five-star rating He says she’s a great time so stop the waiting It’s time for her to find the one he’s indicating A glowing review, a recommendation A quick overview and a broad invitation Highlighting the best so the rest’ll recognize them But leaving himself out because he can’t jeopardize them Dateline: Datetime online hookups The woman makes sure that the man gets looked up Sharing his profile, schedule gets booked up Stirring the pot so his life will get shook up A glowing review, a recommendation A quick overview and a broad invitation Highlighting the best so the rest’ll recognize them But leaving herself out because she can’t jeopardize them Dateline: A March Monday eve The man goes out with his heart upon his sleeve To meet a girl that he met over OKCupid They hang out for an hour and she says this is stupid You’re hung up on another, anybody could see But the man just says he isn’t, now about you and me What’s past is in the past and the present is now I’ve forgotten all of that, girl, so don’t have a cow The woman that you mention was a nice set of wings But I’m flying on my own now onto much bigger things Dateline: A March Friday morn The woman meets a boy who’s old-money-born He says he’ll buy her things like lockets and cars But he can tell that she won’t open her heart She’s hung up on another, anybody could see But the woman says she isn’t, now about you and me What’s past is in the past and the present is now I’ve forgotten all of that, boy, so don’t have a cow The man that you mention was a nice set of wings But I’m flying on my own now onto much bigger things Boy leaves woman Girl leaves man Boy meets girl And they’re off like that Invited to the wedding Are the two ex-things But it’s too awkward now To put on an old set of wings This is why we can't have nice things Or better things Or little things Or bigger things Or anything at all

Who tortures the tortured artist? Who tortures the tortured soul?