I'm a slave to the laundry.

It tumbles before my feet as if to worship me.

But it is the master and I am the slave.

I gather it's heaping mass.

Socks fall from the corners that are out of my reach,

Gracefully stroking my fingertips on their descent.

The change starts chanting in my pockets.

It's calling to me and I must obey.

The machines light up with pleasure,

CHING, C...

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You say your soul was destined for mine,

Destined to be intertwined,

Destined to love in the fall,

Destined, but you love them all.

You love the girls that sit pretty,

You love the girls that talk witty,

You love the girls that look,

And you love the girls that cook.

Is it my fault because I stay?

Because I trust, love, and pray?

Or because I always care?

When you'...

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