The Lone Weirdo

I can’t love her mind yet admire the way she shoves it at people like a battering ram; always the victim with a golden hatchet. She thinks I’m a misguided monster – aren’t we all? He wants to cancel me his mother buys nacho chips by the cart-load so he never has to leave the basement he loves like his personal space-pod. The family, church going man thinks I’m a weirdo, and I am his pastor! "Why don’t you love America?" I do. "Why don’t you love what America does?" Love don’t work that way, what we allow America to do, that's on us. "Why don’t you love my lone-again walk through this strange world?" I’m with you buddy, but then again, you are a lone weirdness just like the rest of us.