I am playing a new game; a game with no rules.
The game is a paradox, if I win, I still lose.
Is it my turn to choose, use or get used?
Who are the players in this wicked ruse?
Me and him (and that other one too).

So many questions. Damn!  I’m confused.
Save what’s left of my morals, or my principals abuse?
Should I continue to seek out that warm, sticky ooze
(That erupts when our passions combine in the nude?)
Or the solitary pleasure my fingers produce?
Calm this rage of desire, dry up the moist dew!

I get all caught up in the aah’s and the ooh’s 
But how would I feel after a walk in her shoes?
Suspecting my man of a cruel subterfuge.
I know like he knows, girlfriends don’t come in two’s,
But it’s cheaper to keep her, and that is old news.
(It’s about having cake and eating it too.)

This may start to get painful; I can’t take the abuse.
My emotions are delicate and easily bruise.
But it’s all self-inflicted and hard to diffuse.
It’s a powerful lesson of don’ts and do’s.
I don’t care how Stella got back her groove.
This whole situation gives me the blues.

I should not only realize but take action too.
This game is no fun, has no point, gives no clues.
I don’t know how to play, so game over I lose.
I’ll quit while I’m ahead, this game is for fools. 
Use that thing in my head, my brain, my best tool.
Wake up from my dream, the alarm’s ringing true.
...But I don’t want to hear it, I’ll just keep hitting snooze....