They will bow to your beauty
But they will miss your brilliance
They will worship your curves
But they will curse others
to see only that which they say is skin deep.
You will weep for your wisdom
The fire in your heart
In your veins
It pains me to see you hidden or vilified
Within his story
You are doomed to be perceived as second fiddle
But you gave birth to this universe and you are the riddle
Sophia wisdom is knowledge and power
it is sour milk to men
and when they drink it they cry
For women make this universe
and men who hurt you die
But you hold my cards
and power
and the watcher I have become sits and waits
Watching you hour by hour
Love and wisdom flow
from streams which flow underground
But women who are powerful
Must know that they can change the flow
and sound out
for what is more powerful than a mothers love?

Tears well up in my eyes
I dream of being a bird to fly away
To transform with angels wings
But I have no song to sing
The voice, your voice
Weighs me down
Every day wearing a painful frown
The tears of a clown
Is how my father felt
I knelt and prayed
For it all to go away
But in the cold light of day
Cold reality is that I don't know
whether any of this is real
Delusions, confusions
Flowing, constant uncertainty
Knowing what you would say
You always say I hate you so much
Pessimism has always been my crutch
I loved you like a songwriter loves his piano
The answer is you don't give a **** though
You were my muse and I have lost all but your voice
Which torments me in every choice I make
Mighty oaks break, their branches tear and shatter
Do I really matter or are my words just noise that clatter
I thought I once met Jesus on my 16th birthday it was my wish
Can I fish my own soul out of sea
Still I yearn for you girl with many faces
Many expressions but I have spoken to you and you have words so few
I cannot escape all the torment you have put me through
and yet I would move my aching soul and bones
Just to sit and talk to you on your throne.

There is a monster in my toy box and he’s covered in purple fur.
His eyes are like slot machines and they whizz around and whir.
He makes me say silly things and he plays with our cat.
He hides the TV remote under the bathroom mat.
He comes out every night to read through all my books.
He tears the corners, he writes in them in crayon and just look...
When I try to catch him, he scurries far away.
Mummy and Daddy, I’m not naughty, I just have to say:
“It was the monster in my toy box, he’s naughty all the time.
You just never see him ‘cos he’s so clever with all his crimes!”