Vi

This unholy new tax year, will be different baby no number crunching here, nothing to do us down, we ride to the city station, call the journey our own, who wants to live in fear, they’ll accept me as a lady, without wailing or tears, our faces sun kissed brown, easy love between our trading, we’ll stroll around the town, cast aside their leers, their fawning masquerading, the peace of home, recovered after crazy, we’ll retrieve those loans, it’s only a game.