I used to have passion
I used to have it along time ago
Now I just sit here
And take action

I'm a sad opportunist
Who lacks a bleeding heart
Without a beat or pulse
Just lock me away

I'm too busy, oh, I am
Too busy everyday
Lock me away, please
For I must be a monster

Oh, I cannot see what I should be seeing
I am too blinded by opened doors
You should crush it while you have the chance
An opportunistic chore

Oh, I'm too busy, I
The relentless sovereign
Stoked with such dreams
Prying off my partnership

*My love, my love
Of all such kinds
So well conceited
Yet I'm blind

I think it's good that you're trying hard
But you'd rather now bury me in our yard
I'm a stubborn wall who can still feel
My darling opportunist,
Our time may yield

The world is in comatose
She walks and flirts
With her flower skirt

Alone, you're waiting in the screen of blue
Waiting for something to happen
You yearn for something new

In the screen of blue
Something might happen

You may be there at the right moment
From blue, it is turned to red
Your feelings may dread

You may not want to be read
But that's all okay

Because in the screen of blue
Something might happen

The attention-grubbing *****
Will sit out on the floor
Waiting to be ****** by a
Siamese sock puppet duck

Its quirky little smile
Will show only for a while
Toothpaste soda and Hot Gin Sour
It's all up and about in a stour

Poor sodding toothless *****
Goes to playpen and dances around
Empirical     to   the   idea'r    of
the crowd  wanting    a     ****

You're cynical but caring
You're truthful but daring
No fear, no criticism

And yes, you!
Over there; your laundry smell
Your snuggy-apparel
It's a total waste of time

No time, no catch-up
I'll run for cover, I'm sorry

I'm an ostrich with its head in the sand
I'm sorry, that's just who I am

The earth was grounded
Everything was grounded
And for that matter
It was a matter of colour
And perception
Which had helped me
Search for the connection

I cried in joy at all
And the sounds of all
Which had brought me closer
To the peak of which I had came

My head was a river
And the burning tears came
Within the joyous excitement
I was ecstasy as they were
Creatures of purpose