When you're not around I find excuses not to bathe
That might mean I love you, and it might mean I'm partially crazed
This might come as a shock, but I've never been tased
It's very difficult for me to not stare at you're face
I like the way your cardigan's sleeves never fit properly
It lets me know that when we're older, we'll both neglect our property
I like that in bed we hold ourselves rather awkwardly
I don't appreciate that you blame all your farts on me
I like that you work at a bookstore and read romance novels
Even though you won't let me enter slow dance brothels
It means a lot that you quote Busdriver lyrics
I really dig how you abstain from drinking spirits
It's cool how you're not snobby with your body
And nod your head whenever I kick this linguistic karate
We're not one of those couples people take photographs of
The way you blow kisses gives me a head buzz
I'm trying hard not to add to your suffering
Because I have no idea what that smile could be covering
It could be nothing, yes it could be something
It might be everything, and I know it could be bluffing
I know it could be bluffing, but
I used to think it was weird that you didn't like the internet
I've been at thrift stores searching for a floral dinner set
It's cool you use swear words to pepper conversations
And know the patterns of northern black bear hibernations
I know I can be a real glutenous attention hog
I probably spend too much time courting blogs
I know you think this rap business is imaginary
I really appreciate our dates at the library
When you're in the room, it's hard to get my focus on
And I know it's real, because I didn't get embarrassed when I wrote this song
I gave you my Gameboy Color, you actually played Pokemon
You think all of this philosophy I read is dry and boring
But I know that when you sleep, you get loud with you're snoring
You knit me a scarf with oatmeal yarn
And you never laugh when I tell you my dream of owning a farm
I'm glad you're not one of those spacey New Age yoga chicks
Whose in to lighting long earwax candle sticks
I'm the Keymaster, you must be Gatekeeper
Our general melancholy makes us very late sleepers