Self

Self

To find myself I caught the number 92.

They may take my puppy love.

But they'll never kill my amour fou.

The mad love.

Between me and you.

You are at least two.

If not more.

Am I your whore?

Or you mine?

Your ass is fine.

As is mine.

I can't lose you this time.

This is no petty crime.

Its the heist of the century.

I didn't rob a bank.

The academy I thank.

Burn Hollywood, burn.

To myself I return.

Ewan Povey