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SHANE IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE
Shane, you are the bane of my existence There is no resistance The hash and the mash to my potato Your hair more twisted than fettuccini alfredo Sexcapades more legend than Bagger Vance
Here's what I know: You're looking out, on the move, on the go snorting the blow Screen time kept to a minimum Isn't there more than that?
An empty house with a guarded gate Passive-aggressive check-mate When you're saying the F word on The L word letting out the rage from the page that Ilene Chaiken creates
Oh, and those clothes wearing those pants down so low ass crack in the back what's there left to show?
Then so quick to disrobe Don't worry - I don't think you're a ho
Girls about town ready for you to hire and fire spin them for one night your lover line-up rotating like the spokes on the village bicycle's tire
"Relationship" is just a term a word a noise you'd rather not hear intimacy, vulnerability, responsibility, culpability: are those the demons under your bed an intangible yet real sort of fear? Come on, I'll buy you a beer.
You're a tough bird, a vulnerable chick blocking the cock in favor of pussy no need for dick, no need for prick Oh, Shane (skinny as stick) never stopping to think about last night's random spontaneous spectacular adventurous incidental accidental casual fuck
unless...
you've got a stalker named Lacey eyeing you like you're a duck and she's on the hunt
Then there's the love you shared, almost shared, tried to share with Sherry but nary a very true "I love you" rang true between you too too much like cheap white glue stuck on her for a while only to peel off, fall apart, fade away like erasable magic marker on tile mark it off on your list of successes and failures leaving you rest assured a check checked off, in the mail that relation/ship has sailed
It's a harmless destructive kind of fun talking of Shane McCutcheon
because...
Shane, you are the bane of my existence the lonely kind of happiness you only experience during Christmas
You are: The everything to my every day a headache, pain, strain, that won't go away like the day after a cold goes away traces remain like the sun interrupting the rain the stripes stripped off my candy cane the guilty pleasure, pleasureful shame being a fan of that cat they call Shane
because you are my bane everyone's bane especially when you prevent innocent boys and girls from being masters of their domain
Once again Shane you are the bane of my existence upon no one's insistence fighting the powers that be can't free me it's my doing I am my own worst enemy inciting the riot accessory to my own ruin
Fuck it Enough with this shit That's it
Shane, as long as you're beast I'll be tit
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