Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

get drunk on jealousyBut you'll come back each time you leave

Rose garden filled with thorns

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

Wait, the worst is yet to come, oh, no

Stolen kisses, pretty lies

Cherry lips, crystal skies

But 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

'Cause you know I love the playersAnd you love the game

Got a long list of ex-loversThey'll tell you I'm insane

f the high was worth the pain

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

I'm dying to see how this one ends

Ain't it funny rumors flyAnd I know you heard about meSo hey, let's be friends

"Oh, my God, look at that faceYou look like my next mistake

Nice to meet you, where you been?I could show you incredible thingsMagic, madness, heaven, sin

You come and pick me up, no headlightsLong driveCould end in burning flames or paradise

that James Dean daydream

Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eyeAnd I got that red lip classic thing that you likeAnd when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Take me homeJust take me homeYeah, just take me home

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of styleYou got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt

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

"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

when we go crashing down, we come back every time'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

ut IWatch us go 'round and 'round each time

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause IKnow exactly where it leads,

Long driveCould end in burning flames or paradiseFade into view, oh

MidnightYou come and pick me up, no headlights

Good fences make good neighbors

I 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.’

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

‘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:

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. We keep the wall between us as we go.

left not one stone on a stone, But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean, No one has seen them made or heard them made,

Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied.

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.

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.

ose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

e art of losing isn’t hard to master;

the chasm-side is dead.Repeated       evidence has proved that it can live       on what can not revive              its youth. The sea grows old in it.

all the physical features of ac-cident—lack       of cornice, dynamite grooves, burns, and       hatchet strokes, these things stand

turquoise sea       of bodies. The water drives a wedge       of iron through the iron edge              of the cliff; whereupon the stars, pinkrice-grains, ink-       bespattered jelly fish, crabs like green       lilies, and submarine

he barnacles which encrust the side       of the wave, cannot hide              there for the submerged shafts of the sun,split like spun

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

The Fish

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,

Those

fires blaze.

cold splintering,

indifferently to him, who had driven out the cold and polished my good shoes as well. What did I know, what did I know

undays 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.

out his man and times his jump perfectly, gathering the orange leather    from the air like a cherished possession

and filling the lanes in tandem, moving    together as brothers passing the ball between them without a dribble, without    a single bounce hitting the hardwood

swiveling back to see an orange blur    floating perfectly through the net.

wild, headlong motion for the game he loved like a country

while the power-forward explodes past them    in a fury, taking the ball into the air by himself now and laying it gently    against the glass for a lay-up, but losing his balance in the process,    inexplicably falling,

an underhand pass toward the other guard    scissoring past a flat-footed defender who looks stunned and nailed to the floor    in the wrong direction, trying to catch sight of a high, gliding dribble and a man   

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