Baby in a Basket

Ever since 1998,

You have faulted me for not being nostalgic

It is complex, when I used to be allured by your leatherback photo album

Stories about you with a pixie cut, in New York, with your newly found charm

You were all the rage, as well as behind all my rage

I could tell you about your sagging chin, but that is cared too much

There goes me being protective, or thinking that I am

That is the lesson you always give, and for that you were damned

My first time with Madonna, time went by, so, so, so slowly

That glamorous jockey on the stage, to this day I still mimic

The kings on the hills, the horses, the stars, the lyrics

I faulted your tears, on that mountain, with the dogs

Flashback to when I hit you on the head,

With my metal Glock, over my father’s shoulder

My first time learning guilt, but you deny it was real

We do not have much mutual memories, but most are fond

Even though, your words, I can always see the bad in things

At 4am, we share one mutual moment, silent,

Showering and checking phones, malice and lament

Fought hard and learned well, I have wanted to get you, to be you

But ever since 1998, you have faulted me

That’s how it is, we’re four people after all,

Enough to form a dysfunctional family, entertainment for all

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