Slow dancing in only our underwear
Together our souls are completely free
Flawed, but love overriding all
This is the only way I’d ever hope to be
Slow Dancing In Only Our Underwear
panties
Too Many Loud Souls/When Silence Will Do
Too many loud souls/When silence will do
Fools too busy collecting trophies & stickers
Not focused on truth of what matters
Sneaking glimpses of soul-revealing knickers
But they’re plastic; not of a proper diet
A mere aesthetic for the internet’s sake
The superficial appetites of modern times
I long for days when passions weren’t fake
Somewhere there is something incorruptible
Something pure that we might know
To purge our lives of superfluous antics
To feel a little more real & a little less faux
Those Matchbox Fantasies
Those matchbox fantasies
Gunmetal grey panties with soft pink polka dots
She placed a stiletto on her wooden leg
Character assassination plots go all for naught
Unassuming by way of distraction
She’s hiding a switchblade under that dress
She’s dangerous down to her core
A beautiful woman – you don’t want to mess
Beware of their corrosive accolades
There’s no exoneration in the line of fire
She’s insolent about your theoretical love
In the end, she’s killed you with her underwire
Calico Woman Came Calling To Me
Calico woman came calling to me
Hushed words within a poised stance
Lingering, but pale stars falling
Returned with dislocated underpants
Thinning with ulterior motives
Never forgot her hocus-pocus
An underlying pain feeding through
Life left when love slips from focus
We’re Allowing The Modern World To Dwindle
We’re allowing the modern world to dwindle
We’ve neglected love & now slowly it dies
Crashing back to from where it came
We’ve messed up this most recent of our tries
A fragmented society in this world of hate
Our streets filled with torch bearing vigilantes
But I’m choosing compassion & joy
I’d rather chase you around in your scanties
Flirting Like A Pilgrim
Dancing In Her Pretty Lil’ Dress
Dancing in her pretty lil’ dress
I lifted her high in the air
That’s when I learned
She didn’t have on any underwear
Tip Of The Cap
Tip of the cap
Nod of the brow
To make contact
But you don’t know how
Falling by yourself
Panties & dimes
To savor this life
Silently paid for our crimes
I’m Sitting Here Morose
I’m sitting here morose
Reading pages & thumbing my nose
Bored by the status quo
Breaking off from the path we chose
I’m searching for a worthy woman
To take by the waist & forever dance
Who desires to explore love
& live by the seat of her underpants
Picturesque; Popular Version Of Perfection
Picturesque; popular version of perfection
Flawlessly designed for an afternoon tryst
But there’s something broken in her smile
It appears her panties are in a twist
Few could have complaints on her form
With that yoga toned & sculpted derrière
Feeding on kale & interweb attention
But her soul smelled more like dairy air
Captain Q 