Ballroom Fantasy This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

September 23, 2010
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You think you’re so sensitive you think you’re so cool
Well, thanks for screwing me over because you’re just a tool
I can smell the air reeking from the crap that you say
Boasting of your victory when you haven't yet entered the fray

Darling, you’re just a part of the hype
You’re not a scene queen, you’re a stereotype
You’re not a indie soul or a goddamn rock star
Just because you write lyrics and play the guitar

So erase your chance of a fine romance
Stop visiting the supermarkets and that big dance
Sing me a sad song that’s not sad at all
If you can’t reach your fantasies, there’s always the mall

Are you really that thoughtful are you really that deep
Do you cry yourself to sleep or do you really count sheep?
You’re not chewing the cud; you’re not even thinking
You’re the captain of the junk and that ship is sinking

You’re a face in the crowd; you’re the template of bland
You’re sailing in the wind and building snowmen in the sand
Get it through your skull; it doesn’t make any sense
To say the grass is greener and then sit on the fence


What do you want to accomplish, what are you here for?
If it’s what I suspect, let me show you the door
He’s not falling in love he’s not under your thumb
It’s not ‘your’ song unless your life is that dumb

Now are you sad, will you attempt to contemplate?
I’m laughing as I listen to the kind of music you hate
Sit in a hole with your whine and your cheese
But for God’s sake leave me alone PLEASE


Because as time goes by the paint will dry
All in all it’s another ballroom fantasy

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