Who will care for the children when your war, when the fighting, is done?
Be not gentle breeze come morning, be not the leaf that falls tonight.
The beautiful roses -proof of your affection- I left them to rot
Unwashed hair hanging in stripes down a sodden back and a too pretty face,
She loved her Petunias, I tried to say no - the flowers would die! But, they needed a home.
Dearest one, when I look at you, that smile you’re hiding beneath your silken strands; as I follow the path you trace,
"You're on the wrong track now," called the one eyed man on the Docks of Saint Paul's.
I play opera when the sun is about to set outside.
Sponsor me, I'm off to conquer the world for you.
Figure out the motion, before you run out of speed.
What I’ve written – that will stand. It is my one demand.
"You're a cad," she said. "It's just a fad."