Sunday, May 31, 2009

The Real Housewives of Orange County Have No Soul to Sell

I am a holy roller, sex threat level ten and she is the devil at work within me.
Like wine and cocaine we combine just fine.
Like rich old men and young blonde gold diggers, we were meant to be.
Her the parasite, me the host.
She is my boy hood fantasy girl and I'm her favorite college mistake.
We mean more to each other then we'll ever admit.
But she's a material girl and I'm busy burning down her favorite boutiques.
Her happiness outside of me is a Visa card with unlimited credit,
And I'm finding it very hard to keep her attention while she has cash at spend.
QVC is the soundtrack to late nights and bed fights, and I'm sick at tired of kitchen table countertops full of her receipts.
My religion and her shopping mall Jesus have never met but if they did they'd hate each other.
Yet strangely it seems that our mid-summer nights fling will leave her with more diamonds and me without a thing.
Well I not your sugar daddy and you're no prom queen
So let's find a way to end our midnight romps without my heart or wallet shattering
Because honey my love for you is as real as you think those diamond earrings are.
So enjoy tonight for one last time
Because tomorrow I'll be melting your heart of gold as you refine your taste for the finer things.
So all aboard and last call for this train out of nowhere and straight to the penthouse.
This ain't the last stop just the one you get off at.
See playing with my heart is like playing with fire and tonight you're getting burned.

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