RIDICULE, Judith Godreche, Charles Berling, 1996, (c) Miramax

How do you expect us to keep it real when all you do is hide up your bunch of feelings.

I wonder how you want me to keep the conversation Lit when all you do is “listen to me talk and reply me with “kk” ”

I brain storm to make you happy

Make a fool of myself

Only to discover am just to make up the number

And to be among the guys at your Beck


Its not too late to feign we are strangers

We can simply go separate ways

No hormone


I call daily

Lotta SMS

I stopped my attention for 2 days

You could not afford to give me a beep

Where am I/

I hopped on the wrong train

Zero love


She said i have got pride

Cos; I don’t freeze at her sight

I don’t melt at her voice

I have only been with you for 2 months

Where do you think you are going to?

She thinks she is on a Spaceship.


Am sick to love

I love in pieces

I might like your dress sense

Then dislike the way you fit into the dress

I might like the way you wear your female bags

At the same time dislike the way you wear them


Take a chill pill

I still love you

Just that you are not game

How on Earth do you want me to be all over you like skin tight

Am not Mr Eazi

Am still depending on my parent

Recession is no joke


Your pretence have got a lagragean multiplier

Have scaled through your type



Take it easy when you tell a lie

How can you claim you are fine

Yet you sound like one who needs urgent help.





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