i'm mud, no motivation like i ran out of scooby snacks,
listless, like this yet composed of various panic attacks,
capitalize Her, for it's the greatest meaning she has,
pleasantly in the background, almost invisible like elevator jazz,
pass clubs and bars, the harmless predator at your local wal-marts,
no median desires, yet chronically divided like where my hair parts,
me: most of the time you don't want like the queen of spades,
basically about love, unable to understand like opponents of gay parades.