I gave you all –
gave you my blood and my bones
and what little passion I had left;
you gave me nothing –
rotten teeth and broken skin
stained with desires and theft;
I gave you what I got –
ink in the blood and sugar in the eye;
when will you burn that fiver in your pocket?
you want my money, my money, my money –
I’ve bled me dry and drank that blood
and supped on the tits of liberty.
you don’t know what liberty is –
it’s parody you’ve tasted and drained
of what little passion we had left.
and what I’ve taken from you,
you’d have me think was taken freely,
not carved in rotten chunks of rotten soul and meat?
I wouldn’t have you think.
I wouldn’t have you think at all.