temptation, frustration
so bad it makes him cry
beneath your perfume and make up
youre just a baby in disguise
get out of here
before you have the time of your life
the time to change your mind
dont stand
dont stand so close to me
young girl, youre out of your mind
your love for me is way out of line

or
set your mind at rest
and let your dreams run free

it is unbelievably difficult to do the right things, and painfully easy to do the wrong things.

Strip

You're not the real deal
Not the one in the shades
You're still hiding in the dark
Just too afraid

Not the one to make phone calls
or drive around town
Not the one people run to
Not the typical clown

You're not the types to say no
But you just wont say yes
You don't fit into jeans
yet you refuse a dress

Trying too hard
But you can always do better
Too much weight on your shoulders
Only wearing a sweater

Take it all off
Strip down till nothings left
except the emptiness which defines you
The kind you know best

All in all, you're just another kid in a box

Little boxes on the hillside

Little boxes made of ticky tacky

Little boxes on the hillside

Little boxes all the same

Theres a pink one and a green one

And a blue one and a yellow one

And they are all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses

All went to the university

Where they were put in boxes

And they came out all the same

And theres doctors and lawyers

And business executives

And they are all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same. 

And they all play on the golf course

And drink their martinis dry

And they all have pretty children 

And the children go to school

And the children go to summer camp

And then to the university

Where they're put in boxes 

And they come out all the same. 

And the boys go into business

And marry and raise a family

In boxes made of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

Theres a pink one and a green one 

And a blue one and a yellow one

And they are all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

- Malvina Reynolds, from the soundtrack of "Weeds."

Tarana Banana's Theme.

"you are someone else...but i am still right here."

surrender

an utterance of those words which terrify me so, and once they're out - they're out. a few glorious moments of liberation. thats all i wanted - but then those eyes stopped me. everytime i look into them i fail to understand what lies within. all i can see is a reflection of myself - and i see too much. here i am again, so vulnerable, so ready to give you absolutely everything i have to offer. here i am, inches away from your face, breathing heavily, wondering how to formulate into words these cluttered, confused thoughts. here you are, holding me by my hair and demanding from me exactly what i can't give you...and then you despise me! i remember the warm breath that lightly grazed my ear when you calmed me. i remember the quiet tremble of my voice when i denied you that convenience, pushing you away though i desperately wanted to pull you closer. i remember how every moment became torturous when time seemed to slow down, and there was no-one in the world but you and i. as if it wasn't hard enough to ignore your mere presence; you made it harder for me to hold my own with those lips...made it so easy to believe all your lies. i know who you are, but it doesn't matter to me anymore.