What makes you think
I'm ever going to wait for you, someday in the rain?
Because we all know that you can't sing worth a note,
and that you making me look like so many befuddled piles of pear jelly
sitting in a shattered bowl, in an immaculate kitchen
counter which only had one cutout paper heart on it,
isn't going to make me any happier.
Don't hug the pillow any longer than you have to,
because it's okay if you expect me to always know the answer.
It's sort of making me delirious, the way you spin around, doing nothing
with the yellow Rhododendron
that I handed to you.
and so many black jumpsuits, all nice and orderly
don't please a fox,
because hiding is easier in disarray, and the empty melody
you hand me
screams for attention it will never get from the likes of you.
Pause as yellow light hits the corners of your face, and spin for me one more time,
because this may be the last one for me.
Don't sigh like that, as I pin the corsage to your
chest, and ask me to hurry up with that.
I'll hurry when I want to Yumi, and you
can't make me go any faster.