Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?I'm not cut out for all these cynical clonesThese hunters with cell phonesTake me to the lakes where all the poets went to dieI don't belong, and my beloved, neither do youThose Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cryI'm setting off, but not without my museWhat should be over burrowed under my skinIn heart-stopping waves of hurtI've come too far to watch some namedropping sleazeTell me what are my words worthTake me to the lakes where all the poets went to dieI don't belong, and my beloved, neither do youThose Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cryI'm setting off, but not without my museI want auroras and sad proseI want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet'Cause I haven't moved in yearsAnd I want you right hereA red rose grew up out of ice frozen groundWith no one around to tweet itWhile I bathe in cliffside poolsWith my calamitous love and insurmountable griefTake me to the lakes where all the poets went to dieI don't belong, and my beloved, neither do youThose Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cryI'm setting off, but not without my museNo, not without you