This song is really good You tell me enthusiastically after nearly knocking me over, 30 seconds into sub-par synths and francophilic lyrics
You ruthlessly exclaim that the New York Times says it is, you’ve heard it for the first time tonight
Earlier that evening my new housemate told me that I should fuck you
I’ve known you for too long, there are too many moving pieces
Not to
When I was fifteen you and the boy who taught me how to love two years later
Laughed at me in Model UN
I quit
You played the same Revolver songs over and over again when I took a leap toward a newfound solitude
Took me to tea, told me about your zionist grandma, told me about how smart the girls you live with are
How much you wanted to fuck one of them but she has no idea, she’s too busy studying at Wesleyan
Or at Barnard, girls are nonchalant, their apathy compliments their midriffs perfectly
But really they all do, you’re too agile, too fit
Called my friend fat, called my taste in music juvenile
Made the thing I like most embarrassing
Live next to me, tell me
You forget, you talk to so many people
Friends, strangers, people at bars
Which you go to because you’re involved, immersed, longing for someone
With the perfect idiosyncracies , but the least to say