Have I ever told you I dislike your reek of cigarettes?
The beer you doused over my jeans has deadened my heart,
The words you said to me tonight have driven us more apart,
The view you give me on this world is prevailed by a big matte.
Have I ever told you you’re the least beautiful girl in town?
The clothes you wear are totally inelegant,
The earrings you have are absolutely distasteful,
The tattoos you get makes your appeal go steadily down.
Have I ever told you you’re a picture of misery?
The ostentatious pseudo-dolefulness is tedious,
The tears you cry make me irritatingly nervous,
The heartache you complain so much of is shady.
Even so and all the same,
My mortified soul and my agonized heart
Carry a torch for you – with an everlasting flame.
Adrasteia (old Greek) = the inescapable