Peta Three

Who needs a shrink, but a lover somehow, and a little drink, all might the day own, in a village full of clowns, on fields full of stones, I know what you think could never hold a plough, but a secure unit's zinc, on display for the town, shows what I've sown, outrage now I'm gone, I teeter on the brink, though a whole summer down, walk and gargle and stink, they'll ship me now, face like an ice rink, body weight of a cow, my politics dull pink, heat shines off my brow, it's safer in the clink, to shut off the sorrow.