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The Yankees are kicking butt
The score is 8 to 2
I am in this rut
Suffering as you

Have dated me
Two and one-half years
Still live with that other woman
Trying to bring me tears

Not all my guy
As you say
Suffering lies
What comes my way

On Easter
Calling me---a bother
After feasting
My love you slaughter

Pain cutting me in pieces
What's to gain
Until it ceases

Talk to someone kind
This book of paper white
I'm not blind
To the hell that is not right

I've obeyed you
Kept my anger inside
Been true too
You let that slide

Unto the comfort
Of what you get
Go on to her house
I'll throw this fit

Suffering the devil's plan
Suffering the world keeps turning
Suffering want a husband-man
Suffering as her house-boy's learning

Going to burn in hell
My flesh black and stinking
Go to poetry to tell
That your life leaves me sinking.

4/9/2007 1830 cj

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