You're as bored as butterscotch
It's obvious we're through
Silk stockings lying on the chair
Sunshine sticks like glue
Kids are playing warriors
in the blancoed yard outside
I tried to think of something
I tried, I tried, I tried
The cat sleeps on the lino
Dreaming of frozen mice
You stroke your thigh with a hairbrush
back pretending that it's ice
The warrior triumphant
takes a dustbin for a ride
Crying fear no more the tyrant
He died, he died, he died
The clock complains of sunstroke
And then is heard no more
A sick violin is put to bed
by the corporal next door
The lid slips off the dustbin
The warrior falls inside
Spread-eagle hurt his bottom
And his pride, his pride, his pride
You throw the hairbrush at the cat
And walk towards the door
Trace a final farewell
in foot prints on the floor
I thought about the violin
and of the clock that died
And like the wounded warrior
I cried, I cried, I cried
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