brandnew_islove
10/22/05, 01:22 PM
Dear suburbia,
I know what you did last night
At 2:37 am when you thought we were all asleep
I know what you did when you believed that no one would be watching
And calling out all your fatal flaws
Last night I learned the secret of suburbia
I learned your fear of rejection
If you were sitting outside with your boyfriend,
Does suburbia even have a boyfriend,
An older sister, a younger brother?
Do you have a gender or a life.
Sometimes you’re my mother
She does everything wrong with the best intentions.
Sometimes you’re my father.
He’s a liar.
If you were sitting outside with you lover on the third evening of fall
Talking about escape from this hell
(Where tragedy is just the word in the dictionary
Or the story told by Aztec paintings
In year old World History textbooks
Suburbia I don’t want to mean,
But you used to make me want to die young)
Would you except to see the outbreak of fire
The sudden spread of disease
Suburbia, that night I saw your true self
I felt a sudden surge of love for you that disappeared
After the seventh grade when we stopped going to the mall for shopping
But rather to sit outside Borders and talk about everything that never meant anything
I didn’t realize how cruel you could be
And I still can’t understand why you hide beneath
Grass cut to one inch high by Mexicans
And filthy money made by gamblers and thieves
I know what you did last night
At 2:37 am when you thought we were all asleep
I know what you did when you believed that no one would be watching
And calling out all your fatal flaws
Last night I learned the secret of suburbia
I learned your fear of rejection
If you were sitting outside with your boyfriend,
Does suburbia even have a boyfriend,
An older sister, a younger brother?
Do you have a gender or a life.
Sometimes you’re my mother
She does everything wrong with the best intentions.
Sometimes you’re my father.
He’s a liar.
If you were sitting outside with you lover on the third evening of fall
Talking about escape from this hell
(Where tragedy is just the word in the dictionary
Or the story told by Aztec paintings
In year old World History textbooks
Suburbia I don’t want to mean,
But you used to make me want to die young)
Would you except to see the outbreak of fire
The sudden spread of disease
Suburbia, that night I saw your true self
I felt a sudden surge of love for you that disappeared
After the seventh grade when we stopped going to the mall for shopping
But rather to sit outside Borders and talk about everything that never meant anything
I didn’t realize how cruel you could be
And I still can’t understand why you hide beneath
Grass cut to one inch high by Mexicans
And filthy money made by gamblers and thieves