Precise compilation of style and distinction, no questions. No sudden movement or unexpected moments of surprise... nothing surprising.
Pretty girl rolls her arm around the back of pretty boy. Swept hair pulls perfectly across a forehead. Perfection.. Everybody is perfect.
Drink another beer my friend and make up a song, for she's not for you, they're too precise with their movements and wit, their dirt placed for purpose, their hair long by choice. They've never seen the wild, and they don't need it. Nor does it need them.
But the fury drowns your heart, in their perfection you sour and burst and repeat. For there is no way, and all you can see are plastic bottles in a landfill.

Sweat it off my friend, drink your beer and let the din ad buses bring you home.
You still don't belong, and that's sweet irony. Love it