Roadside dandelions

When you said you'd take me on a date, I didn't think you meant your room. No matter how beautiful you think your art is.

When you said you'd give me flowers, I didn't think dandelions from the roadside.

I don't want your 50 cent ring pop.

Or some of your fries.

I want food on my table.

I want a $5000 ring that says you'll at least pretend to love me.

I want a bouquet of roses every weekend, not some dandelions that reminded you of me.

And you better make sure you can get us a big house, where you can fill your room with other people's art. Who cares about yours?

Either way you'll break my heart, so I may as well get something out of it.