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epitome of incomprehensibility
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Mentioned in freewheel_lyrics, the not-quite-freewheeling but vaguely autobiographical song goes something like this:
I’m the kind of girl who tried to rhyme with world.
The world expected better, like friends forever.
I could blame Christianity;
I grew up dreading the idea of eternity,
But what’s a childhood without some fear of heaven?
Without dial-up, *NSYNC, or 9/11?
I know, you think I miss the old days
Like it’s just a phase, or justified.
You’re my cherry pie, my hugs and kisses, XOX—
Honey, I know you’re high on the glycemic index.
You’re the apple of my eye, my Clockwork Orange,
Sex and violence and imaginary language.
You’re my shock and awe, you’re shockin’ awesome.
Shock is cheap, but I like bargains, and you’re hot, I want some
Global warming up, I want some practice for the past:
I want my sweet nostalgia back.
If you’re the kind of person who lacks
A way of life that’s under attack,
You might have my nostalgia
And I want that old bastard back.
You might have my nostalgia,
You might have my nostalgia,
You might have my nostalgia,
And I want that old bastard back.
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