but she will do for tonight.
I'm like an ugly Christian Bale,
so it's quite alright.
she takes me home,
we start to bone,
because we both
don't want to be alone.
I want to date the idea of Phoebe Bridgers,
a successful singer-songwriter,
but in the body of a divorcee
with acne scars.
she wants to love the idea
of a punk rock musician,
but she settles for a poet
which is not too far.
now some dude is in front of her house
bumping 'Above the Clouds' by Gang Starr,
she offers me a Gatorade,
and turns on Jurassic Park.