The poor children
That's what we were called
Surrounded by drunks and drug addicts
Single mothers and their hordes of children
The future cleaning ladies and harbour workers
We sometimes watched the orphans
Wondering what would become of them

In our own world
We were richest of them all
While the mothers worked
Through sweat, tears and stress
There was always someone
To show a little kindness
"Those kids can come with us, we're neighbours"
This meant pizza for dinner

The summers were for exploring
Golden fields hiding rabbits and phaesants
Truthfully covering a dump yard of course
Trees were naturally for climbing
Move through the forest without touching the ground
A tailbone got injured here and there
No time to see a doctor, it will heal on it's own!
Play hide and seek
Race each other on bikes
I always cheated
Where that stream really lead to, we never found out

But by that very stream we built
From planks and nails
Isolated with candlewax
A little cottage
Every day after school
No one knew where all the nails and candles had gone to
And how the community wood supply seemed to vanish
"Only the good planks" because we had standarts
Who would've noticed the little ones when the grass grew so high
It was our little secret

Naturally the road workers took it down
"Unsafe structure" someone said
A whole summer lay in ruins before us
The toolboxes were quietly returned to their rightful owners
Bored as we were, we gave it another shot
This time supported by a tree
We'd hoist ourselves up with a robe

That was taken down too
We felt sorry for the tree!
But winter's close
That meant snow castles
Never wondering what might happen
If the structure collapsed on us
The tunnels lead to nowhere and everywhere

The mothers were working
Who would stop us
But when our mum was home
All kids were invited for dinner
Us and 12 others
Future cleaning ladies and harbour workers
Blissfully unaware
What lengths the mothers went to, to feed us
I've never been poor in my life.

Blindly you stare
At a single point in time
As you tell me
With anger in your voice
How many "hot ******* you ******"

Then persue your point
By arguing that
You would not lower
Your standarts after having had me

I'll take the compliment
But be sure to understand
That only the damaged girls
Would take as much crap
As I took from you

The way I hear you
Is that you need a woman
Who does not need you
So you would not have
The responsability
Of making her happy

The demands are indeed low
With such a girl
But be sure to understand
That the less she needs you
The more likely
You are to lose her
If you continue this way

If she doesn't need you
Then indeed she stays
Because she wants to
But you're not as great as you think
If you expect her
To sway to your each demand
And less than flawless business transactions

If you want a girl
Who doesn't need you
Make sure you
First and foremost
Are the man who doesn't need her
But who stays
Because he wants to.

The world is not fair but moral standarts apply to all. The ruler
isn't always a superior person and the ruled isn't always inferior.
The world doesn't belong to the powerful but to those of pure
heart. All that we do is not for today but for tomorrow.
Hard times to live for sure in this era, so much darkness.
There are moments that i doubt some people are capable of
redemption, yet each time i attepmt to surrender in that thought i see it.
The glimmer of goodness that allows me to believe, that the people
i care will have things i never had the privilege to bask fully.
A warm home, someone to show you that they love you
every single day and someone to fight for you no matter what...
In other words a family.

By what standarts
Do you measure yourself?
Achievements
How many you've loved
How many loved you back
How many you've conquered
Or how many
You've rejected
How many you have
Indeed held hanging by a thread
All your conquests
And how popular you are
Your large entourage

All of that may be great
But in the end of the day
I will not be impressed at all.
Your enviornment
Does not interest me.
I want to know
But one thing:
How sincerely you've loved yourself
In the end of the day
I will only ask one thing of you:

*show me your heart

I am not good enough for your standarts
I am just the arrow to play darts

You wanted her
I'm not preety as her
That's true
My black eyes not comparing with her, blue

I don't blame you, it's my fault
Now i could feel the losing volt

Being painfull to know
Clare as the winter snow
For not being enough for you
But there is only you and just you.