All my carefully measured metaphor,
All my Flat 9 dominant seven chords
All my shtick, my lyrical trickery
All of those bows, all that applause
All my intertextuality
All my self-aware hypocrisy
All my rhymes, my irregular times
All my softly spoken sophistry.
All my make-up, all my lights,
All my photo shoots in tights,
All my pretensions, all my intentions
All my glitzy opening nights.
All my brow-dependent jokes
All my mirror balls and smoke
All my tilts at wit and whimsy
All my poetry, my swear words and my smut
Will never get as many hits as
Kitten Waking Up.
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