If I could take the parts, you know,
the bits that don't really matter
one by one,
moment by moment,
and push them off a cliff to a place that collects such worthless clutter

The mistakes I have made,
the thoughts that shouldn't follow on through but do
those past revelations, such stories of wondrous lies and the times I should just have just poopooed

We live a life that is never in the here and the now
The mundane taking over, every work hour a taste so sour
To look and to basically be your best,
those wrinkles showing old age,
an advert on your brow

We'd like to shove all these inacuracies and self loathing on a one way trip to hell
but its a part of the human being that grounds us all, a one time life in this corruptible shell

So to take away those parts that make us so inaccurate
would be a boring life with no ups or downs as we all like a few quid on an unsafe bet
those niggles, such talk that is utter drivel,
all to be placed in a room with a designated shelf

Not a chance, its a part of our lives,
for who would ever want to have,

A Divorce From One's Self

JJB