Seasons Intemperate
If ever I should leave you, it might as well be now
Whilst the kettle boils its sad refrain
And heap no further bullshit upon the sacred cow
If ever I should strike you, it might as well be now
When you board that steaming westbound train
And blot the perspiration from your brow
If ever I'd forgive you, it might as well be now
My own perpetual durance, Shakespeare's restraint,
Will keep me safe from slitting the neck of our old sow
If ever we're to end this, it might as well be now
But how?
Contributors: | Beefy, Apsley, loaf, Stacy Alexander, dkb. |
Poem finished: | 14th November 2002. |