I review my past through wicked windows framed in silver
And hung in toughened gla**, upon my face, around and over.
Now and then: memories of men who loved me.
No stolen kiss - could match their march on hot coals for me.
I have walked a line both faint and narrow, hard to follow.
Caught up in circumstance. harsh truth for history to mellow.
Through my eyes: loyalties and obligation
Magnified. obedience: the better fellow.
Better not remember me. don't mis my pa**ing.
Fierce winter fails to ruffle my icy sleep.
We never quite vanish. no wet soft surrender.
Still waiting: bad blood running in close families.
I laughed like any child - although you might find that strange
And christmas was my favourite holiday.
Christmas was my favourite holiday.
I am not alone in seeing the world through wicked windows
While others hide likewiese behind this vulnerable squinting.
It's in the stare: it's in the silent scrutinizing.
Strip you bare: i ofer you no more disguising.
Better not remember me. don't miss my pa**ing.
Fierce winter fails to ruffle my icy sleep.
We never quite vanish. no wet soft surrender.
Same bad blood running in new families.