James

You ask how I cope, If you could only help, to take me back home, why make me suffer, you little vixen, no need for your butter, stay out of my zone, I know you mean well, but I’m better alone, the words that you utter, don't come from a pen, they make my heart flutter, measure my chrome, put me in a spell, leave me in the open, I start to stutter, on bar stools of leather, you and my mother, my skin might need soap, but I’m not tethered, I laugh at your rope, save it for your friends