Insomnia is crazy tonight. I just had an Oreo crisis, with an amusing Jack Sparrow-esque stumble into my kitchen after stubbing my toe on the floor. Wish I'd had a video camera. Anyways, I just wrote a song. I don't really know why all of my songs are so short. That bothers me, a bit. Oh well, tired brains do not good song machines make. Or something.

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compare me to a summer's day
anything will do, anything will do
voice your wish of me to stay
anything will do, anything will do

a reaching hand, a quiet plea
anything will do, anything will do
a sign that you need only me
anything will do, anything will do

and my self esteem has dropped
i cannot seem to reassure
since the compliments have stopped
i realize that it's immature

for all i've given, all i've got
which, frankly sir, is not a lot
are words of lame apology
and projected guaruntee
which quickly turns around
who expected that rebound
i'm slowly seeping inside myself
i hope this letter helped

compare me to a summer's day
anything will do, anything will do
voice your wish of me to stay
anything will do, anything will do
anything will do, anything will do