Because I saw you at the crossroads;

And we both are who we are already,

It might be best just to consolidate the solitude

And wash away the

ARE YOU READYYYYYYYYY.

I couldn't do it

Even to get close to you

Even to get next to you

I could do it

Even to sit next to you

Even to connect with you

Even for sex with you

Naked, as friends,

Or again, at the ending

I haven't yet written

I need a prescription

Or maybe some whippets

Hey—

Let's ditch this place

Take me with you

Alright, who paid you to do this?

No such thing as fate,

Or coincidences

In Downtown Los Angeles

I can't be anything more than what you make me

So take me to a dream

And raise the stakes please

Or a spiced ham

God dammit,

What a handsome and tragic catastrophe

At least, it better be

For what I'm paying

I'm not playing with you, Timmy.

My name's not—

I know what your name is.

I know what your name is,

I write in your cadence

I know what your game is,

I guess i'm stil playing

It's quite automatic

You know what I'm saying?

I know what you need—

Yeah you know what I need, Nick

The first problem is;

I keep making these men into muses

And music,

Without consummating or laying with them,

Perhaps I should change the arrangement

We all like your face, kid.

So, let's face it

The music is over

The doors of perception are closing,

And hopefully none of the open ones

Leave her homeless

So—

Go, then, and while you're running and the doors open

We'll go through your clothes drawers

and set off the codes, then.

Holy moly, it's gross where you're from—

Holy, Holy, a God and a Ghost, huh?

Holy Homes for the lonely and

No more roses

Ok.

Ok.

Ok.

With just one look at your face—

And I write this, pages

Thanks, Drake—

(Or whatever your name is in private;

Cause I haven't been there yet)

Alright, next assignment.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

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