Samsa - To the girl 3 seats over on the f train lyrics

You are papyrus to a scribe Your highness, I'd describe you As the finest kind of wine that ages so well It rewinds the time (-winds the time) You aren't wine You are the fibers of the vine, divine, you are defined In Webster's as the climate of the Caribbean Me and you should burn together like we're fire and kerosene You plundered through my chest and stole my heart, a pirate of the fairer being Midas sighed and let his sinuses unwind and golden ether culminated into you The lioness to her pride, I heard you sculpted King Poseidons diamond trident at his side The surest sign of suicide for me would be that you had died The God of d**h, Osiris, Isis and her ibis-headed mask Would guide you down a spiral staircase into Cyprus if you asked You are the ripest stalk of Cairo-grown papyrus to this scribe I've got no stylus to describe you as the finest kind of wine That ages so well it rewinds the time, no, you aren't wine You are the Carolina pines, and I'm so sorry that you aren't mine