I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight. Why can't you be my centerfold from '75? I heard your voice from the womb and now it has a cruel pitch and it's not enough. You screech at my mistakes. I curse you for yours. We both swim in the same cesspool.
My hairs are grey This is aging effect I keep them black by regular dyeing This keeps me in a perfect fray This also spares me of seniors respect But earns me youngers status And brings me in working mode But It gives me feeling of reality exodus