Journal #1592

SHAPE OF MY HABBOI to the tune of SHAPE OF MY HEART BY STING
He makes the maps as if in meditation
And those he maps never are bad
He doesn?t map for the money he wins
He doesn?t map for respect
He helps the noobs to find the answer
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden law of probable outcome
The mappers lead a dance

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this toy
but that?s not the shape of my habboi

He may play the map called train
He may lay the map named cartoon
He may conceal a rifle in his name
While the memory of it swoons

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this toy
But that?s not the shape of my habboi
That?s not the shape, the shape of my habboi

And if I told you that I loved you
You?d maybe think there?s something wrong
I?m not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one
Those who speak know nothing
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who smile are lost

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this toy
But that?s not the shape of my habboi
That?s not the shape of my habboi