Sean Two

Say you’ll get a grip, please don’t rage and bellow, give me that old lip, you don't need drugs to pray, lock them in the hold, find the need to get away, you always make surly trips, a manacled wretched clone, watch others dance and flip, don’t let your spirits fray, down unforgiving zones, lies in everything they say, they make your kisses drip, like drunken bozo's, with their lousy 'scripts, will you get some sleep, on your twenty stone, when faith makes a leap, wonder why your broken kip, fills every childhood moan, there’s another coffin ship, waiting as your home.