This Pulse Sate Thing, driving me insaneWhile usually so inane
As the want of sex
Like I so often suggest
A question of how love is made
Beat and breath an endless drain
Pursuit of glory, fortunate and fame
But could I be another or next
This Pulse Sate Thing
And this new hurt; this new pain
Don’t feel so good but worse the same
Never healthy, never best
Just wish it hurt a little less
Life and pain but who’s to blame
This Pulse Sate Thing
Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.
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