The Paper-Thin Man. | Nyyyargh! Fucking POETRY!!!

"Love" in the shallow essence of words
is selfish and sinful and packaged in hurt
for when hand comes to hand it will lead to the touch
and when push comes to shove it will all mean too much

If you live on a wall there'll be nowhere to fall
no "what if there's love?" and no "when will he call?"
but with logic and theory so constantly near me
how can a paper man cost me so dearly?

Despite the insistence that one is enough
I cover myself with paper cuts
just to manifest stress primarily
in vain, in love, insanity

"Love" in the frantic mess of the mind
means many a problem no man can define
for I have the key and I keep it with me
in a black leather book far away from your eyes

Less of the room with the shrink and the blinds!
Upstairs in the mind, everything's fine
So persistent are you to discover a meaning
you'll ignore what I'm for to ensure that you're gleaming

"A man's not a man when he's only a sheet!"
But the 'man' that I 'love' in the Land of the Free
he is high on the hill, a star in the sky
a human illusion, he's barely alive!

"Then call him a lover, then give him the earth
but have the gun ready for Hi Power Hurt."
He'll never be love, he's merely desire
And if he hurts me - I'll set him on fire.

For when hand comes to hand it will lead to the touch
and when match strikes the pack I have loved you too much
pat to face is your way of rewarding the liar
So when you hurt me - I will set you on fire.