The Player (A Hair Product Is Not A Love Product) Poem by Lou Embalsado

Put all of your excuses in the basement,
coz I've got somethin' better for you,
it's a word called 'atonement',
for the ladies' hearts you broke into two.

You're the kind of guy that keeps his mental notes,
on an archive,
memorized words, 'Girl, I'm so sorry for the things,
that I've,
done to you,
you're my boo' sarcastically,
you put all of your lies,
in files,
alongside 'good memories' and 'never-ending love'
logistically,
caressing your lover's life,
one hand on her troubled face,
and the other behind your back with a knife,
of bad intentions, unfaithfulness, an evil smile.
It doesn't matter...
You own her as far as you're concerned,
her body for you to use, she is your 'instrument',
as what you have learned.

Put all of you excuses in the basement,
coz I've got somethin' better for you,
It's a word called atonement,
for all the ladies' hearts that you torn into two...