No one really knows the
Art
of dating anymore. It was
Lost
sometime back in the 60's
Between
doo-wop and the Rolling Stones.
The
free-love movement desecrated
All
regard for proper form,
Tearing
down the barriers and
Clearing
out restrictive zones.
Nowadays
the dating game
Is
played upon a different court.
Rules
relaxed down to the point
Where
no rules need apply.
Sleazy,
darkened, noise-filled clubs
Replacing
Mother's parlor.
Rooms
where desperation dwells
And
morals go to die.
Tricks
devised to bed, not wed,
Are
etched on bathroom walls,
As
lurkers, losers, louts and creeps
Stalk
freely through the halls.
And
no one really knows the rules.
They're
made up as they go along.
The
art of dating gone for good,
A
dirge it's dying song.
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