So it's gonna be foreverOr it's gonna go down in flamesYou can tell me when it's over (over)If the high was worth the painGot a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insane (I'm insane)'Cause you know I love the playersAnd you love the game 'Cause we're young and we're recklessWe'll take this way too far (ooh)It'll leave you breathless, mmhOr with a nasty scar (leave a nasty scar)Got a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insaneBut I've got a blank space, babyAnd I'll write your name

Boys only want love if it's tortureDon't say I didn't say, I didn't warn yaBoys only want love if it's tortureDon't say I didn't say, I didn't warn ya

So it's gonna be foreverOr it's gonna go down in flamesYou can tell me when it's over, mmhIf the high was worth the painGot a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insane'Cause you know I love the playersAnd you love the game 'Cause we're young and we're reckless (oh)We'll take this way too farIt'll leave you breathless (oh)Or with a nasty scarGot a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insane (insane)But I've got a blank space, babyAnd I'll write your name

But you'll come back each time you leave'Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

Rose garden filled with thornsKeep you second guessing like"Oh, my God, who is she?"I get drunk on jealousy

Screaming, crying, perfect stormsI can make all the tables turn

Stolen kisses, pretty liesYou're the King, baby, I'm your QueenFind out what you wantBe that girl for a monthWait, the worst is yet to come, oh, no

Cherry lips, crystal skiesI could show you incredible things

Got a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insaneBut I've got a blank space, babyAnd I'll write your name

It'll leave you breathlessOr with a nasty scar

Cause we're young and we're recklessWe'll take this way too far

Got a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insane'Cause you know I love the playersAnd you love the game

You can tell me when it's over, mmhIf the high was worth the pain

So it's gonna be foreverOr it's gonna go down in flames

So hey, let's be friendsI'm dying to see how this one endsGrab your passport and my handI can make the bad guys good for a weekend

Ain't it funny rumors flyAnd I know you heard about me

New money, suit and tieI can read you like a magazine

Saw you there and I thought"Oh, my God, look at that faceYou look like my next mistakeLove's a game, wanna play?" Ay

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Nice to meet you, where you been?I could show you incredible things

He will not go behind his father's saying, And he likes having thought of it so well He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

see him there Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. He moves in darkness as it seems to me, Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offense. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him, But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather He said it for himself.

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder If I could put a notion in his head: ‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it Where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Before I built a wall I'd ask to know

He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’ We wear our fingers rough with handling them. Oh, just another kind of out-door game, One on a side. It comes to little more: There where it is we do not need the wall:

We keep the wall between us as we go. To each the boulders that have fallen to each. And some are loaves and some so nearly balls We have to use a spell to make them balance:

No one has seen them made or heard them made, But at spring mending-time we find them there. I let my neighbor know beyond the hill; And on a day we meet to walk the line And set the wall between us once again.

The work of hunters is another thing: I have come after them and made repair Where they have left not one stone on a stone, But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,

Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it, And spills the upper boulders in the sun; And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time

Take me homeJust take me homeYeah, just take me home

He says, "What you heard is true, but ICan't stop thinkin' 'bout you and I"I said, "I've been there too a few times"

Takes me homeThe lights are off, he's taking off his coat, mm, yeahI say, "I heard, ohThat you've been out and about with some other girl, some other girl"

He can't keep his wild eyes on the road, mmTakes me home

So it goes

'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirtAnd I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyeAnd I got that red lip classic thing that you like

Watch us go 'round and 'round each time

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause IKnow exactly where it leads, but IWatch us go 'round and 'round each time

It's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)

Fade into view, oh

Long driveCould end in burning flames or paradise

MidnightYou come and pick me up, no headlights

opening and shutting itself like aninjured fan.

Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps       adjusting the ash-heaps;

wadethrough black jade.

of love’s austere and lonely offices?

Speaking indifferently to him, who had driven out the cold and polished my good shoes as well. What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?

fearing the chronic angers of that house,

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. When the rooms were warm, he’d call, and slowly I would rise and dress, fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Sundays too my father got up early and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, then with cracked hands that ached from labor in the weekday weather made banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

who looks stunned and nailed to the floor    in the wrong direction, trying to catch sight

an underhand pass toward the other guard    scissoring past a flat-footed defender

and spinning around to throw a strike    to the outlet who is already shoveling

perfectly, gathering the orange leather    from the air like a cherished possession

and for once our gangly starting center    boxes out his man and times his jump

A hook shot kisses the rim and hangs there, helplessly, but doesn’t drop,