The Tale Of Romeo Poem by Adam Berman

He thinks he can reach cause he has her number and mail...
but he's so far from her he can't even tell
He is doing things that he shouldn't be doing
and he should just leave her alone
She flies like a eagel and he flies like a stone

He sits in his room; he's got nothing useful to do
His priorities are somewhere between getting a new leather jacket or a new tattooe
He thinks of his sisters, mother, ex and her
he stares at his ceiling wondering if god's sitting up there

He opens his fridge, he's got nothing healthy to eat
His options are somewhere between hagal slag, a can of beer or some terrible pork meat
He sees a passport photo of his landlord and child and in his mind a photo of hers
He stares at the floor wondering if there's any yummy food down there

He takes a shower, he's got nothing better to take
He may look like he's underweight but he feels like a steak
He looks at himself in the mirror and wonders when his facial hair will grow
He takes off the nest from his hair and lets the mother bird go

He walks past the rain drops, he's got nowhere better to walk
He searches for his age and finds it inside of a broken clock
He finds a door on which to knock, but theres a lock that's keeping the clock
from ticking and luck is hard to find, when he's all drunkard because of her from wine
and he won't play romeo for her roommate

And he thinks he can reach cause he has her number and mail...
but he's so far from her he can't even tell
He is doing things that he shouldn't be doing
and he should just leave her alone
She flies like a eagel and he flies like a stone

He talks to his friend, he's got no better friend to talk to
His friend speaks of milking cows that make a better sound than moo
He thinks of his sisters, mothers, ex and her
her stares at roof top wondering if go'd sitting up there

They sit outside the Wester church, they've got nowhere better to sit
Their options are of hanging in the green park or shopping for red meat- and they're broke, and he'd rather have chicken anyways
He sees a passport photo of god and child and in his mind a photo of hers
He stares the pavement wondering if there's any gold down there

He opens his can, he's got nothing better to open
His options are somewhere between staying sober or becoming a man
He sees a taxi cab pulling and a husband growing mad
He stares at the pigeon wondering if there's any brains in that head

He buries his head in salute, he's got nothing better to bury
He pops another can as his friend points his finger to a cherry
He looks at himself in the water and wonders if she'd want to marry
He speaks of her with respect, his clothes are all wet, he calls her Juliet

And he thinks he can reach cause he has her number and mail...
but he's so far from her he can't even tell
He is doing things that he shouldn't be doing
and he should just leave her alone
She flies like a eagel and he flies like a stone