You're already lost
In manners of information
Because you were to meet up with the strep throat dispenser On the stairs at the union
Across from the Anti-m**m/Anti-Queer/Anti-Youth demonstration
Those dreams you're having work to hide the game you play
Where the player can choose but cannot win
They are the posted missals pointing to the broken hymn
You are a busted bag that dribbles spittle in my bin
Anyway
The black-haired, blackfaced rapper
Wound up being nothing but an actor while
The blonde-haired, brownfaced rapper found him hanging from the rafters
Standing in the middle of it all
The Colonel Count Fanshawe
The main man Jeremiah
And in the back, Ryan and Ashley drawing out their tangerine dream
Out and walking
My head is dead
And you're skipping ship-shape down the one-way street
You are tripping out
Down the way of the Anti-Tobacco/Anti-Bully/Anti-Nuclear demonstration
On the side of the Anti-Petrol/Anti-Money/Anti-Discipline signs
That's when I knew I had myself to blame for this faceless, fearless, Count Basie-raping sea change
And what's worse
They had already a**igned two lieutenants to the scene
Where you had lost more than your car, your pants, your wallet, your phone
Which to Ryan and Ashley was already known in their tangerine dream
This had all first seemed ridiculous to me because I remember being at his house, for sure
I remember doing things at his house, for sure
I checked my emails before and then we walked to the shore. We had eaten dinner together, we had talked together, and during that time I hadn't left his apartment together—but—they were insisting on putting everything into hourly segments like Ryan and Ashley once seen when they told me about their tangerine dream
And they insisted that I had left the apartment for a certain period of time to meet somebody, which frankly I didn't remember but the interpreter said I probably had a tangerine dream
Anyway
The black-haired, blackfaced rapper wound up being nothing but an actor
While the blonde-haired, brownfaced raptor
Found him hanging from the rafters
Standing in the middle of it all, the Colonel Count Fanshawe
With my main man Jeremiah
And in the back
Ryan and Ashley drawing out their tangerine dream for all to be seen in a dream
A: How did you come to decide to delete the message?
B: I had a limited amount of space on my phone, and whenever I received a message that I didn't need to remember something for, I deleted it
A: So why didn't you delete yours when you answered his?
B: Um, I'm not used to deleting those. I just delete the ones that I've seen in my tangerine dream