There are some things we take for granted,

Like thinking everyone’s gonna know that Arnold’s gold fish was named Abraham.
Or that when the invisible man is sleeping in your bed you’re supposed to call… Ghostbusters.

There are just some things we take for granted,
Like those long kisses, underneath covers, late at night.
The ones that start at 11pm and end at 9am.
The ones that start at the mouth and end at the feet.
The ones that start with you penetrating and end with you being penetrated.
The ones that start your heart going and end your longing.
The ones that start too late and end too soon.
The ones that you have, the ones you had, the ones you lost a li’l while back,
The ones you just assume you’ll have again,
The ones you will.

There are just so many things we take or granted.
Like clichés.
Like that a bird in the hand really IS worth two in the bush,
But that you have to let it go to find out the truth.
That we just assume most times that we’re the hand and not the bird.
How we forget that being set free to fly
Can sometimes feel
Like being dropped out of a tree to fend for yourself.
There are just so many things we take for granted.

Like that we just assume that a mother’s love
Means beddy-bye nights,
And warm apple pies,
With a touch of kisses on boo-boos,
Not a Volvo sinking head first
Turning it into a hearse
With the windows rolled up tight,
Child safe button on, of course.

There are just too many things we take for granted.
Like forever and always.
Like good-bye and no more.
Like breakup sex,
Like make up sex,
Like hog wild sex,
Like motionless sex,
Like transparent sex,
Like having a sex,
Like longing some sex,
Like where you got the eggs you got for breakfast…
After sex.

Like that the sun will follow,
Like waking up tomorrow,
Like the hollow of night,
Like the welcome of light,
Like the silence of dawn
And all it adorns,
Like that next and more
Is always in store —
Things taken for granted on a regular score.