Single and Grown

We had dinner

We kissed in the car

You said I was special

But I know who you are.

I've been naive 

Thinking I was the star...

I'm just another in the galaxy,

Another drink at the bar. 

I try to forget how

I thought it'd go far...

Watching your body

sweat against that electric guitar.

Your voice tells stories

that your hands can't write,

Promising sunshine

again, 

in the dead of the night.

When we met I knew

There'd be Hell to pay

You said I love you

But that's all you can say...

There you go

Damming my emotional flow;

Blank stares in your underwear,

You make me feel like a hoe. 

The boys 

The little boys...

They don't come for love

They've come to play ball...

Another, 

Peter and Paul,

Screaming contradictions

With that southern drawl. 

How silly of my mind

To think he pondered future

instead of my tight behind?

The boys can make me cry

But I'm done with temper tantrums

Through with a dirty open fly.

I'm not chasing 

another lackluster guy

Drinking his champagne 

Through a bottle of SKYY.

Done with the post midnight

rendezvous 

No more loving the crew.

You ask

Why are you single? 

I say it's complicated

I've lacked self respect

and my trust has faded.

For now I'm dancing on my own

No need for a realtor 

I've always been home.

Don't need to be completed

My soil has already been seeded

And now I see more than ever

you were NOT what I needed. 

So please be seated

elsewhere...

I will be exceptional...

I will be emotional...

I will be successful

On my own

On my own. 

You can keep your superficial 

You're nothing but a con

A fraudulent infomercial. 

I'm not answering my phone

I'm on my own...

On my own. 

Thanks to you I am grown,

All on my own. 

Single never felt so liberated

Instead of your displeasure 

I should'ave masturbated.

I feel good 

In and out of my clothes

Yes I think of another body 

But I'm more interested in souls. 

Dating can make you feel 

Like you're swinging on poles

Conversations go left...

This nigga doesn't have goals.

I guess I'm too selfish

to help him become a man.

Too individual 

To join his marching band.

They can blow on those trumpets

Bang his tambourines...

But their 15 minutes will be over

When I get up and sing. 

Pain won't keep me here

I remember driving

and letting him steer. 

He used to call me a fag

While handing me a cum rag.

Self hating, foolish man...

He didn't want a partner

He just wanted a fan. 

I've grown to idolize myself

And it doesn't allow me

To keep his pictures on my shelf.

Yes I'm single

Smelling my own cologne

And I'm done with fruity pebbles

No more rolling stones.

On my own.

My own.

It's only my love..

That I own. 

Single and grown.