kidding me

Proust proud- I am the poet of the song
for the frost is long and the early winter
is strong you sing along
sing along to all these pretty things
but never are you truly going to ever be pretty
for any real thing.

Snowballs you through at me.
For any real thing is what I can see.
For anything. But never are you truly going to ever
be pretty for any real thing. Any real thing at all.

You gotta be kidding me!
You gotta be kidding me.
You gotta be kidding me
For all this is the end of what was to be
and friendship and something more.
For any real thing.
But never are you truly going to ever be pretty.
For anything at all.
All.....

You gotta be kidding me
You gotta be kidding me.
For all to say in the frost it is a lost
for all the time of you and your cost
you think you are someone-who can get the gambit of the ideal
dream so superficial and supreme forever living your worst dream
away from reality and conform all the ideals of life to the nation of your
sacrifice. And its nothing nice.
But hatred. You gotta be kidding me.
But hatred. You gotta be kidding me
and when it does not pan out and you are just a caught sheep.
You gotta be kidding me-you were free all along

but you choose  your life and your spouse
your fucking white snow and your house
just go pretending that you are a somewhat mouse
not responsible when it all pans out!
And when you do not like life- you gotta be kidding me!

You gotta be kidding me!

You gotta be kidding me.
Kidding me..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





For one you are so lost do not track me
down and come to my huse
all washed up and nonsense spewing form
I will say to you- You gotta be kidding me!
Kidding me.
But yet you'll start again and I kick you out of the house.
You gotta be kidding me.