I am too this I am too Fat

I’m too this, I’m too me, I'm too that, Too happy, too sad, too thin, too fat Why do you want to be with me, you louse? I am as irrational and deranged as the Winchester House. Your criticisms have been a long time coming. I can sing them in my sleep, they are always humming I am too weird, I am too mild. You think you are the adult and I’m your child? I have a word or two for you. But pouting is awful to watch, so I’ll be blue. Keeping my thoughts to myself, to keep safe. You are no prize or prince, old Rafe. You will be lucky yourself to find a normal gal. You are not a friend, a good lover, a confidant or a pal. I will keep these thoughts to myself, of course. But your brain is mean, and your skin is coarse. You have a smell I cannot put my mind upon. I think I’ll go off with your friend Big John. We will not think of you at all, old Rafe. Being with you has been a big disgrace.