I'm a little preoccupied tonight
sat at this computer with nothing
but a single beautiful
girl on my pretty
mind

there is no roar from the sky
to shake me from
her

there are no desperate cries
in the deepest depths of hell
fit to stir
me-

all I can think about is why
I'm always falling in love
with all the wrong girls
at all the wrong
times

when everybody else seems
to make it look so much
easier
than
this

as the rain continues to fall
as another ex-hero
dies

as the peacock
struts--

as she passes through my
mind again and
again

and
again