I realized through a sense of reason
There was no purpose for my scorn
It was hastily reasoned I was the purpose
Though the scroll we read was torn.
Sixty seven times you were right
I doubted sixty eight
Rules exchanged through heated discussion
Tend to come a little too late.
When we held out our hands for treasure
They gave us a little prize
It wasn’t nearly as much as we planned
But it came as no surprise.
I’ve gotten lost in a thought sometimes
Much to the dismay of the speaker
I’ve always liked the thought of passion
It is like lust, only weaker.
If there are two paths ahead of me
I’ll always look for the third
When a book contains nothing but pictures
I’ll always look for the word.
A meager dressing is better than none
A twisted fate is always the deal
You can come in with hands of gold
But I know what you’ll steal.