I know
you've got a tolerance
for most things, platitude excluded.
You know
I'm not that good with words,
but walk on eggs when you're alluded.
So far
this hasn't gone that well;
I'll just freak out and grab any cliché
that I find in my way.
So there:
you should filter my words;
make sure you get the core of what I just said.
And if I dared to tell you
it would be so corny.
I know I'd say something lame,
like ‘I know you're for me'.
That's it;
bromidic sentences;
that's all you'll get from me this evening.
As wine
and rum start kicking in
I'll just get worse, please understand me (I urge you; understand me).
So there:
I'm unoriginal.
Is it okay if I choose to rip off
another tired song?
Now, please,
forget I said a thing,
you're looking bored with my circumlocution.
And if I dared to tell you
it would be so corny.
I know I'd say something lame,
like ‘I know you're for me'.
And if I came around,
I know I'd be so corny.
I'd say something lame,
like ‘I know you're for me'.

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