Yareli

He comes to me in bits, say water's in his blood, somehow nothing fits, how his Ma baked cake, made a life of rough, his Da just the same, he carries yellow lists, the things to do tough, cries before the kids, is there another way, maybe he needs a shove, defeat his troubled days, I'll help if he insists, even if his head is wood, who wants another blitz, act like it's a game, won't ever make a fuss, suffer all his phases, in his house of whispers, history never shuts, you don't need a chorus, give him love enough.