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Lazy, you lazy poet, your words are reckless, and I can't feel it
But hey, hey, all the boys I have ever loved have been digital
I've been a guest, on a screen, or in a book!
I move 'em with my thumbs, I move them with my thumbs
I write his name in nothing, he whispers to the author
That I will be the only one
Escape! Escape! This time, for real!
We fool around in the service lane
He's the only friend I have who doesn't do cocaine
And all the boys I have ever loved have been confidential
Had a broken home, or a seedy past
So I know it's gonna last
And move him with your thumbs, I move him with my thumbs
He needs, he needs my guidance, he needs, he needs my time
Though I am not the only one
He swam! To the edge of the wall of the world!
Followed my voice, and he cried
Master! The answer is maybe... Maybe not... Maybe not...
Maybe not! I have goals!
Gotta fulfill the seven prophecies!
Gotta be a friend to grandmother!
Gotta rescue Michael from the White Witch!
Gotta find and kill my shadow self
Gotta dig up every secret seashell
You may have been made for love...
But I'm just made.
But hey, hey, all the boys I have ever loved have been digital
I've been a guest, on a screen, or in a book!
I move 'em with my thumbs, I move them with my thumbs
I write his name in nothing, he whispers to the author
That I will be the only one
Escape! Escape! This time, for real!
We fool around in the service lane
He's the only friend I have who doesn't do cocaine
And all the boys I have ever loved have been confidential
Had a broken home, or a seedy past
So I know it's gonna last
And move him with your thumbs, I move him with my thumbs
He needs, he needs my guidance, he needs, he needs my time
Though I am not the only one
He swam! To the edge of the wall of the world!
Followed my voice, and he cried
Master! The answer is maybe... Maybe not... Maybe not...
Maybe not! I have goals!
Gotta fulfill the seven prophecies!
Gotta be a friend to grandmother!
Gotta rescue Michael from the White Witch!
Gotta find and kill my shadow self
Gotta dig up every secret seashell
You may have been made for love...
But I'm just made.
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It's a struggle between reality and a fantasy world.
The narrator is in love with all these fictional characters. They are perfect; they live in sort of utopia compared to our harsh reality.
And yet, the narrator cannot be loved by the characters. He may control them (through pages and videogame controllers), but they will never care for him. The narrator may guide them and hope for their survival, yet these fictional characters are oblivious to the narrator. The "he whispers to the author" part seems to be a wish for recognition from the character.
These fictional lovers contrast greatly with the narrator's real world. All of the real people the narrator has ever loved was a bad influence.
And so the narrator laments; he will never find true love.