Chrissy

When I say 'screw you', It makes my troubles bright, so much more to do, all Chefs die intestate, however much they fight, useless venom at the plates, screaming at menus, their eyes a terrible sight, frightened kitchen crews, fire burns at their face, don't ask me why, anchors bind my feet, even God is not immune, debts gone from my eyes, no longer am I duped, wouldn't it be great, to feel a love inside, instead of all his rage, our house beyond the dunes, drifting with the tide, death won’t bring him truth, I’m soldered to his cry.