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It's romantic in the sense that it's not romantic at all
There's a carrot on a string that you can't reach
There's an apple in a tree that you can't eat
And it's been breaking my heart so I'd better start thinking about drifting

I've been knocking on the wrong doors
And picking at the wrong scabs
I've been sucking all the wrong dicks trying to keep myself afloat

Afloat

Be sure to bury me left of the middle

It's poetic in the sense that it's not poetic at all

There was a sin
There was a child
There was a slip
It raised a smile
There was a grip
There was a wrist
There was a song of sorts
It was remiss

Well, what do I know?

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