I still have keys that are of no use to me,
They used to though.
On the other side was a mansion on a hill,
Complete with LA pools and fireplaces,
And a rim made specifically for people who lie about being six feet to dunk on,
Where a piano was for decoration and an old record player was actually for the hoes,
I was never awakened by the twisting of a door knob,
Benzo’s kissed me goodnight,
The bars finally stopped working,
They used to though.
On the other side was a presidential suite,
Complete with living rooms and empty beds and a rainfall showered fixture and the freedom to smoke big dope,
And smoking fees also,
And the possibility of making a beautiful girl I just met, map out in her mind just how many times her apartment could fit in this room,
If I could just get in.
The card stopped working,
They used to though.
On the other side was a family,
Complete with carpet stains and big loves and “its your turn’s” and toys all over the place
(I almost fell and broke my fucking neck),
And responsibility and refrigerator magnets,
And days on the couch and nights on the couch,
And lines drawn in the sand and comebacks that cross the line,
And a horn line from my favourite make-up song plays,
And just like that, we’ve rehabbed a home,
DeBarge stopped working.
I still have all the keys that are of no use to me
They used to work though.
