The Egyptians built their pyramids. The Romans did what they did. Now everything's come down to this.It's just you and I, our kid. We could send a million to the moon, but why can't I get on with you?The cellophane around my mouth stops the anger seeping out.Our deaf and dumb dinners, gravy in the mud.No singles, just fillers. Sometimes I wish I could.But I can't behave. I know it's not the heathen in me, it's just that I've been bleeding lately.Internally, don't turn to me. Bite your tongue, the turret weapon.You could learn a useful lesson. What's so great about the Great Depression?Was it a blast for you? Cause it's blasphemy.Words cut like a knife through Vaseline. You can't really mean what you mean when you say what you say.Tourettes make them come out that way. Wish I was here? Well, I wish you weren't.Your gift of anger's better burnt. If nothing's said, then nothing's learnt.I thought I wasn't, but I'm really hurting.Our deaf and dumb dinners, there's gravy in the mud.And I can't behave. No, it's not the heathen in me, it's just that I've been bleeding lately.Internally, don't turn to me. And I'll bite my tongue, the turret weapon.You could learn a useful lesson. What's so great about the Great Depression?Was it a blast for you? Blasphemy.Our great adventure, Christmas in the snow.See now, dementia may be, what a way to go.I can't behave. No, it's not the heathen in me, it's just that I've been bleeding lately.Internally, so turn to me. I'll bite your tongue, your turret weapon.You could learn a useful lesson. Ain't it great, this Great Depression?It's not a blast for me. It's blasphemy.www.circlelineartschool.com