My Man is Good

My man is a brilliant actor
He has a fountain of bullshit
That he and his mistress fuck under
Behind every stupid move made by a man
There's a woman tapping her foot
And rolling her eyes with her arms folded
I'd love me a glass of wine
I believe wine was
Possibly created by a woman
Who needed
To take out some agression
On fresh grapes
Rather than punch an ignorant bastard
In his damn face
The broken record
Is no longer playable
It has no place to go but the trash
It sadly makes its way there
Breaks into pieces and swept up
By incoherent tears
From someone I used know
What's her name again
My broken heart lives in the trash now
The turntable weighs it down
Trying to play the same song
It once played many moons ago
Doesn't sound the same
If you're trying to play it
With your teeth
Or your fingernails
Our ocean
Washed away our fingerprints
The warm wind that enhanced
And cooled the blazing summer sun
Has been replaced by a frozen mist
The sun is choking on sawdust
Chewing tobacco
And asbestos
It was the fire in our love song
Forgetting the words
Is the death of this blue sun
Its lust of pleasure
It looked to us for
And us
Just isn't there anymore