good morning tv,
how have you been?
you speak more sense
than this little one of mine.
both of you slowly
destroy my mind,
till he comes
to take me outside.
past the precint.
past her school.
past the wednesday market.
we speed past asda, i keep my head down,
where ex-friends gather and gossips crowd.
his hands, his hands they discover.
his hands, his hands they recover.
his hands, his hands they devour.
his hands, the claws on my sweet karakara.
you know there are others.
you know he preys on single mothers.
in my stickle-brick world
fingers smell of tcp.
two names on a bill, one room,
one adult, one child.
this prince of persuasion
thinks he has a silver tongue.
but he could be a builder or a lawyer
or anyone.
got big plans i'm moving out of here.
till then keep your 10 o clock slot clear.
come put your hands here.
you know there are others.
you know he preys on single mothers,
but you don't care.
you don't care.
he comes to take her outside.
