(no subject)
No doubt you'll think I'm giving in
To petulance and malice,
But in candor I am forced to say
That I'm sick of gracious living in
This stuffy little palace
And I wish that I could leave today.
I have suffered a lot
And I'm certainly not
Unaware that this life has its black side.
I have starved in a ditch,
I've been burned for a witch,
And I'm missing the half of my backside.
I've been beaten and whipped
And repeatedly stripped,
I've been forced into all kinds of whoredom;
But I'm finding of late
That the very worst fate
Is to perish of comfort and BOREDOM.
MY LIFE HAS NO REAL CONSEQUENCES.
To petulance and malice,
But in candor I am forced to say
That I'm sick of gracious living in
This stuffy little palace
And I wish that I could leave today.
I have suffered a lot
And I'm certainly not
Unaware that this life has its black side.
I have starved in a ditch,
I've been burned for a witch,
And I'm missing the half of my backside.
I've been beaten and whipped
And repeatedly stripped,
I've been forced into all kinds of whoredom;
But I'm finding of late
That the very worst fate
Is to perish of comfort and BOREDOM.
MY LIFE HAS NO REAL CONSEQUENCES.