First world Excess
I'm calling you out
And be poet
And be wise and profound
And be rhythmic, romantic, professional and
I believe in freedom
The mother of Dragons can’t give you freedom,
I guess I’d fallen
I was falling
I was trapped
I was climbing
I was stuck, I was stagnant.
I called her up to relieve my urge
And she called me out
I courted you, to live with me, until i die
We compromised at less children than our parents had had
She called me out to play a game
