Cyranny wrote some stuff about difficult love and dangerous relationships and it was really good …. but I have the attention span of a flea and suddenly, once again, I was off on a tangent and regressing back into my youth when, for just a few moments, I considered myself to be a rock and roll sex god, who wrote lyrics that were thankfully drowned out by loud music and unhealthy pharmaceuticals.

God, how I miss my own immaturity.

***

You’re infectious baby

I’ve got the disease

I’m burning up

Thirty eight degrees

Sweetheart keep your distance

Please don’t touch

I can take some rejection

But I can’t take much

(Chorus)

I’m lovesick, lovesick, I’m not feeling so great

Lovesick baby. It’s not something that I ate

But I have to bring it up. The condition won’t abate

Lovesick baby. Let’s regurgitate

I’ve got this burning love

It feels so pure

But it’s a hot infestation

And there ain’t no cure

I tried some meditation

With the doctor of love

And I promised dedication

To the Lord above

(Chorus)

I’m lovesick, lovesick, I’m not feeling so great

Lovesick baby. It’s not something that I ate

But I have to bring it up. The condition won’t abate

Lovesick baby. Let’s regurgitate

But the Lord said nothing

‘Cause he couldn’t understand

He was far too busy

And he wouldn’t lend a hand

So I took to medication

Ignored the hymns and the psalms

If this is going to kill me

Let me die in your arms.

***