I’ve seen you weeping for yourself
just like some little pointy elf
who’s hungry for a cup of that white powder.
many men you’ve met in bars
have had you in back streets and cars;
maybe you should sing a little louder.
and playing that card game you see,
you know that you can’t win with me;
you fall at every fence, the water’s frozen.
you swim with children but don’t hear
them when they tell you nothing’s clear;
you’re still pretending now that you’re the Chosen.
surrounded by a sea of dreams
you grasp at everything that gleams
cos it reminds you of your fallen lover.
he’s gone now, he’s not coming back.
your soldiers might as well attack
there’s nothing left now for you to discover.
you’re spending your life by the slice,
the rest of it you’ve kept on ice
but it won’t keep, it’s slowly turning rotten.
you’ll bake your children into you
like they were gingerbread to chew.
or something playful knitted out of cotton.
you dare not leave the dark confines
the activists, the picket lines,
your robes are knitted by nuns in the basement.
your lies are like two fragile leaves
blown gracelessly where Sisters weave
and prayers are chanted through electric casements.
Who’s LC?? lol.