But if I was
I would torch your ignorant faint
Syrup tinting some sort of charm
For your bookless hippopotamus demise
Secret stomping your mac to apple some life
Liberating your down and ever loading ego
Voice-mailing your senses saved
Syncing your trousers ringtones
But tonight the reality is quite intriguing
I have your thumbing velcroing device
Must not all be SNL
If your are willing to kilometer such drive
Mastering not to pry
But if you quit calling me Tina
And never recharge
Your words with possible brains and I may someday arrive