You have the kind of smile,
I could split in two and save for later,
Shoplifting through the aisles of my desires,
Ignoring my mind like the oldest cheese on display,
Just look at that cheese, molding like my heart,
Freezing under all those heavy lights,
No one thinks she's a smart buy,
No one gives her a thought,
Then I look over to what you've bought,
And realize the only reason; I never stay on the shelf,
Isn't because my love is smooth and can be spread with a knife,
It's more like you're convinced,
That this is the sale of your life.
I watch the moving shapes,
Listen to groceries repeated under breath,
And I think to myself,
Look at that cheese, she is a lighthouse
She must be mad with neglect
But as I looked over I can see
The advantages she has over me.
She hasn't compromised herself at the cost of being wanted,
She hasn't tipped herself to the edge to get caught,
She's not concerned with being bought.
She doesn't mind the indifference,
People don't notice her much,
She is chilled by the vacillating hands,
Who can't decide
If they are willing to try something new
For five dollars or six,
Some of us are kidnapped to the pockets of youths,
Who have kicks throwing our prices out on the street,
Where the rest of our heart's ambitions lie in defeat.
Is it so much to ask for a price tag,
For the things you never intended to give away?
Is it wrong to feel you want something back for what you gave?
Is it right to lay night after night like a broken doll playing wife,
Allowing you to indulge in the fantasy sale of your life?
I watch that cheese getting farther away
Like a raft of truth, I embedded in my mind
But then your smile robs me blind.
This isn't the sale of your life
She whimpers but not a soul is in reach,
I was the only thing she had her heart set on to teach.
