I want to scream and shout 'til my insides come out,my wants and needs and desires feed the fires that are raging infernos,massive volcanoes erupt and they torture me.
Leave me alone or set me free.
I am sick of the pickaxe of bus fares and income tax and I'm thinking of quitting it all, to go and begs drinks at the temperance hall.
Sober,they say it is good,
not today it's not.
I've got a thirst and could drink down an ocean,
sell me a quick fix or fix me a potion or I'll have to scream,I'll make such a commotion.or
I might just curl up and die and leave you wondering why or maybe I won't,I don't really know,but I really know this,
bus fares and income tax really **** me off.