Miserable Mr Aymes
Don’t talk back, he snapped
Her neck fell apart – she collapsed
The floor is the place for the terrible games
Of the man in black – miserable Mr Aymes
Heady Days
Sometimes I find it hard to keep my head
I haven’t been straight in quite a while
Can’t remember if I’m still alive
I know I’d like to die in style
Martyr
Life a flower you clipped a week ago
I’ve wilted in the summer sun
Cut at the roots, still stuck in the ground
I can’t pretend I’ll be here long
In my short time on this here earth
I try to consider what I’ve achieved
Not a lot I say to myself
‘Cos I’m dying for what I believed
