Maria

Is this how we stimulate, our inventive best, when we twist and shake, prise every back door, to mend our fences, if we'll wake up sore, fuelled in what we take, is our life a test, little time to calibrate, fools sing for applause, we just want some rest, lead us off this floor, the night's cool probate, scatters our truculence, can agonised stars relate, pity the wandering poor, why ask for pennance, we could do much more, than show our ignorance.