You're already lost In manners of information Because you were to meet up with the strep throat dispenser On the stairs at the union Across from the Anti-m**m/Anti-Queer/Anti-Youth demonstration Those dreams you're having work to hide the game you play Where the player can choose but cannot win They are the posted missals pointing to the broken hymn You are a busted bag that dribbles spittle in my bin Anyway The black-haired, blackfaced rapper Wound up being nothing but an actor while The blonde-haired, brownfaced rapper found him hanging from the rafters Standing in the middle of it all The Colonel Count Fanshawe The main man Jeremiah And in the back, Ryan and Ashley drawing out their tangerine dream Out and walking My head is dead And you're skipping ship-shape down the one-way street You are tripping out Down the way of the Anti-Tobacco/Anti-Bully/Anti-Nuclear demonstration On the side of the Anti-Petrol/Anti-Money/Anti-Discipline signs That's when I knew I had myself to blame for this faceless, fearless, Count Basie-raping sea change And what's worse They had already a**igned two lieutenants to the scene Where you had lost more than your car, your pants, your wallet, your phone Which to Ryan and Ashley was already known in their tangerine dream This had all first seemed ridiculous to me because I remember being at his house, for sure I remember doing things at his house, for sure I checked my emails before and then we walked to the shore. We had eaten dinner together, we had talked together, and during that time I hadn't left his apartment together—but—they were insisting on putting everything into hourly segments like Ryan and Ashley once seen when they told me about their tangerine dream And they insisted that I had left the apartment for a certain period of time to meet somebody, which frankly I didn't remember but the interpreter said I probably had a tangerine dream Anyway The black-haired, blackfaced rapper wound up being nothing but an actor While the blonde-haired, brownfaced raptor Found him hanging from the rafters Standing in the middle of it all, the Colonel Count Fanshawe With my main man Jeremiah And in the back Ryan and Ashley drawing out their tangerine dream for all to be seen in a dream A: How did you come to decide to delete the message? B: I had a limited amount of space on my phone, and whenever I received a message that I didn't need to remember something for, I deleted it A: So why didn't you delete yours when you answered his? B: Um, I'm not used to deleting those. I just delete the ones that I've seen in my tangerine dream