Your boss, the bank teller, the flower lady too,
I'm consumed with such rejection, because they can touch you.
The mailman, the baker, the cars that pass by,
The gift they recieve when they look in your eyes.
I would give up the world, just to feel your face once,
But fate ignores me. she must be out to lunch

I've pondered why we bring it out whenever the sun shines,
We crack it open, share it out, whiskey, *****, beer, wine,
We look for an excuse, a reason why we drink it,
A christening, a birthday, hell any old chance to sink it,
"Oh look, our Biddy just recieved her shiny little car",
So we get the grog in, the fridge contents won't go that far,
"Poor seany lost his job today, let's cheer him up with whiskey",
The crowd it grows, before ya know, we're all a little frisky,
"And Clodagh decorated her room, ah look, she must be knackered,
Let's have a girly night, and open wine, with cheesy crackers",
So raise a glass, a mug, a goblet, even a champagne flute,
Or even that funny german thingy that measures a beer foot,
Let's toast whatever happens, be it good, or be it bad,
The alcohol will serve us all, ah good times there will be had...

                                             SLAINTE

She knew she had it coming, he was due home any minute,
That stupid ****** letter, she knew she should have binned it.
The door flies open, in he storms, angry flaring nostrils,
"So baby, you think you're leaving me for that ******* at the sawmill?".
She backs up, knowing what's in store, he locks them both inside,
She runs away, to no avail, there's nowhere she can hide.
He catches her and spreads her legs and lifts her to the table,
On top of her, he violates, he's obviously unstable.
"Let him take you now *****", spitting words into her mouth,
Then just as quickly as it started, he sighs and pulls it out.
The facade returns, her chores begin, she aches for her sweet lover,
He'll come one day to rescue her, and save her from her father.

The change takes place when night time arrives,
Both loving it, and hating it, she never can decide,
The preparation is a ritual for her,
With silken bodied slipping into something barely there.

When the strides and sways of her hips coincide,
That's the time when the lucky punters are in for a ride,
Saxophones and cymbles and melodies flow,
She's entranced and submits how her erotica shows.

Her spirit is elsewhere, but her body will do,
As she grinds and she swings, and she tries to get through,
But then something kicks in, and the pleasure takes hold,
So she writhes and she touches herself, oh so bold.

They go crazy for her and the cash flies around,
Her excitement is mounting, making sexier sounds,
Faster and faster, her ****** comes quick,
So she uses her pole for her latest few tricks.

The plateau is encountered, and her body slows down,
Regaining her faculties, she dons her tame crown,
Opening her eyes, she gathers her surprises,
And heads home for the next chapter, when the moon next rises.

Stumble, try to get up.
Fail, fall again.
Try, get up,
Fall once more.
Come on! Think of what you stand to lose!,
Raise your head.
You look it right in the eye,
Something takes over,
You can do it.
You get up,
Stumble, but stay up.
Stronger, quicker, you respond,
It's all coming back,
Becoming clearer,
Your back straightens up,
Almost there, almost,
There! There ya go,
Sanity restored, energy back.
Yes. back. . . . . for now!!

Black shoes, white shoes, preparing for my flight shoes,
High shoes, low shoes,beautiful peep toe shoes,
Business shoes, pleasure shoes, too perfect to measure shoes,
Wedding shoes, funeral shoes,running road and tunnel shoes,
Strappy shoes,ahh, ****** shoes, annoying clippy clappy shoes,
We really do need all of these,
While planning our lifes route,
But don't complain too much dear men,
I haven't started on my boots!!

"I guess so, i mean, that's what she said",
The wolf in sheeps clothing clawing its way into his emotions.
All sweet and ******* innocent,
"Don't worry, i'll keep you straight",
The lamb being led to the slaughter, by her cleavage and sweet smell,
******* *****.
"Why don't you believe me, she's trying to split us up",
Poor old me, trying to salvage the scraps of what she tore up and disposed of.
A demon, an ogre, a fragrant, pretty green eyed monster,
Go and get your own ******* man!