Bang-bang, Shoot-shoot

“Thug’n aint easy.”

That’s what a friend once said at least.

I live downtown you see, midnight lovers and all that shit.
I can’t stand em’.
Every time I look out my window, I see lips collide,
awkwardly, of course
The guy thinks he’s the bomb-dot-com
backslash backslash “What happen to Osama, Obama?”
But he’s not on Youtube, he’s not rap’n or cap’n.
Her lips were flap’n in the wind, and touchdown Johnny, you hit em.

I yell out my window,

“Get a room you two, get a room!”
The smirks on their faces get me every time.
I. Can’t. Stand it.

I must sound like hater, or a poor boy who never kissed a girl,
but I have.
I kissed a girl once, right on the lips.
The setting was perfect,
the credits were rolling, her eyes were closed,
the works.

So why am I so against it?

Don’t get me wrong I saw those fireworks reflecting off the ocean,
while the dolphin jumped over the moon.
What it is you see, is that girl was perfect,
she loved me and hugged me,
she held my very soul in her hands you see,
but she was not for me.

She was a kite, and I was holding the string.

She was flying so high, and I couldn’t hold on any longer.
I had to let go as she flew between the buildings,
the lights reflecting, the moon calling her name.
I let her go to the stars, you see?

I let my midnight lover go to the stars,

and now I sit here, wishing that was me down there.
Smirking.