Old tradition dictates
That I write you a sappy love ballad
Glue it on a lumpy paper heart,
Slap on some glitter and lace
Call it a valentine
And hope to God
That it all doesn't stick to my hands.

But, really, who listens to traditions anyway?
I mean, if people stuck with traditions
Where would we be?
I'd probably be standing here right now
In a dress so big I'd be drowning in it
Wearing a corset so tight
I couldn't even breath in it and
Reading you some stupid
Sappy love ballad.


And besides,
If people had stuck with traditions
We'd probably be busy
Wasting our time
Shooting at innocent woodland creatures
And prosecuting our neighbors as witches
Instead of important matters,
Like watching the latest,
Most pointless youtube videos,
Or complaining about sappy love ballads.

So maybe you think
That by writing this poem
I'm taking the lazy way out,
Or killing a tradition,
Or maybe you just think I hate sappy love ballads
('Cause that last one's probably right),
But I like to call this
Standing up to tradition
And telling it to go read stupid,
Sappy love ballads
And see how it feels then.
Not so tough now,
Are you tradition?
I didn't think so.