Oo doo bi doo john

I, (I, I, I)

Scratched so many words down

On paper and with little electric tools of wall on carbon

aka the technological mirror pool

(A phone to be disembodied by)

Juxtaposed dots into discernible patterns

That I forgot or lost out on how to feel

The feeling is supposed to be the meaning

I lost the meaning of the feeling

Somewhere deep down the metro

Whilst making up cloudy sketches

What I (I, I, I) means to say

Is that the arrangement of these words

Was diminished into literality

And so the meaning became demeaning

You can’t help who you fall in love with

Usually a reflection of yourself

(Don’t I want me baby…)

But you can help who you fuck about with

(That much is true)

Well, it seems like I’ve fallen into fucking about

Through words

With you

And you and you

Because that’s what Dylan Thomas commanded me to do

It’s a pattern (I’ll knit my baby’s socks with it)

This conscious act of creating confusion

Oo doo bi doo john

I wrote some more feelings into sweet fuck all just now

See what you made me do!