That’s it people, I can’t cry no more,
Tis nothing profound, my eyes are just sore.
Life's such a bloody predictable bore,
Don't cry now, t’morrow nothing will be anymore.
Tis nothing profound, my eyes are just sore.
While elders lapse in tales of yore,
Our dear kids play games of blood ‘n’ gore.
Tis nothing profound, my eyes are just sore.
Why keep grudges, or a goddamned score,
There’ll be a new Reason to weep and 'nother four.
That’s it people, I really can’t cry no more,
Tis nothing profound, my eyes are just sore.
I laugh at Love, all her tales, her lore,
They were for the virgin once, now I’m just Life’s favourite whore.
PS: Had written this in March, when discussing vocal chords with this very beautiful 19-year-old singer, formerly of a Jazz-Blue's band. Her voice had a maturity and her eyes had a strange grown-up-ness in them. Anyway. Now she says she wants to use these in a song... Shrug.
4 comments:
beautiful. poignant. hard-hitting.
would make a brilliant song.
cheers,
aditi
Hey there Aditi....new reader here? welcome, and what a start?! LOL. the good news is that women who DONT have it should fuckin stop worrying about it. Yea!
:)
been an itermittent reader - just delurked because your poem/song, to borrow from my favourite number, 'strummed my pain with your words'.
keep up the good word.
and will make a nice song too.
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