We're a dying breed,
Killed by Daisies with a growing need
To leech off Gatsbies, you and I,
And suck our hearts completely dry.
A strong heart is hard to come by,
But all too common are the sly.
On our love, they love to feed,
They whom happily writhe in greed.
Never enough to satisfy,
They soon slither toward a bluer sky,
Forgetting about you and I,
Never bothering to say goodbye.
It's hard to find a kindred soul,
One like me, a foggy-eyed foal-
Weak-kneed and strong-willed,
With each other our gaps are filled.