I am playing a new game; a game with no rules.
The game is a paradox, if I win, I still lose.
Is it my turn to choose, use or get used?
Who are the players in this wicked ruse?
Me and him (and that other one too).
So many questions. Damn! Iím confused.
Save whatís left of my morals, or my principals abuse?
Should I continue to seek out that warm, sticky ooze
(That erupts when our passions combine in the nude?)
Or the solitary pleasure my fingers produce?
Calm this rage of desire, dry up the moist dew!
I get all caught up in the aahís and the oohís
But how would I feel after a walk in her shoes?
Suspecting my man of a cruel subterfuge.
I know like he knows, girlfriends donít come in twoís,
But itís cheaper to keep her, and that is old news.
(Itís about having cake and eating it too.)
This may start to get painful; I canít take the abuse.
My emotions are delicate and easily bruise.
But itís all self-inflicted and hard to diffuse.
Itís a powerful lesson of doníts and doís.
I donít care how Stella got back her groove.
This whole situation gives me the blues.
I should not only realize but take action too.
This game is no fun, has no point, gives no clues.
I donít know how to play, so game over I lose.
Iíll quit while Iím ahead, this game is for fools.
Use that thing in my head, my brain, my best tool.
Wake up from my dream, the alarmís ringing true.
...But I donít want to hear it, Iíll just keep hitting snooze....