Saturday, 20 June 2009


I'm not gonna take this in my stride any more.
It's my last line of defence.

I'm gonna try for you.
I'll get pushed to the floor and twisted and bent.

But I won't sit back and watch this prick
Tell you what you want is really what you don't need.

I won't stew away like I'm working on it.
The boy's got a mouth and I've got a fist to feed him.

I won't lash out - I've always been the pacifist.
But even Woody Allen wouldn't stand for this.

I want to say my piece; speak my mind.
My feelings were deceased 'til you shocked 'em into life.

I want the golden fleece - I'll rescue Peresphone from the beast.
I'll try so hard they'll think me contrite.

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