Memories and chaos
And clarity of life.
When you expected a fork or a spoon,
But somehow got a knife.

Or a chainsaw, as the case may be
For those who aren't so lucky.
There's little to do but run,
And hope it don't get mucky.

We were foolish, when we were young,
And still are foolish now.
I wish I knew I'd grow out of it,
But no one will tell me how.

It's past me, I'm lost,
I don't understand.
But I'll tell you one thing....
I could do with a hand.

No sense, no meaning,
No logic here.
Everyone's too busy,
With crisps and beer.

"I did my best,
What more could you ask?"
But sadly, I don't think
That's true of the task.

Is she awake, or asleep?
At home? Do you know?
Sometimes I wish
She'd never go.

The motor is running,
I can hear it outside.
God, please don't let her
Become his bride!

I worry, and pray,
And despair a little too.
But, in the end,
There is nothing I can do.

There never is,
That's life, I fear.
Who gives a shit?
Have another beer.

Home at last.
Unless I am mistaken.
Maybe she'd appreciate
Fried eggs and bacon.

Leave, I cry,
Just go away now.
But when he looks up,
We all only bow.

The custard I made
Is sitting at the table.
Alone, and afraid,
And physically unable.

Oh, give me a break
From this rediculous life.
Please, God? A break?
From worry and strife?

The engine's stopped.
It's permanent, I fear.
But I will be brave.
I won't shed a tear.

Damn you! Just go!
Go back to your wife!
Why are you here?
THIS IS NOT YOUR LIFE!

Practice constraint.
For the benefit of others.
I can't help but despair
For our Christian brothers.

Life's a mess.
But who cares? Not I!
She'll never sit and talk
And look me in the eye.

It's quieter now,
Than it was before.
Silence. Silence.
Silence galore.

The man with the chainsaw.
He lives down the road.
I don't know that for sure,
But I can read the code.

I can't believe he took the time,
To decipher runes like that.
Too much time, I ask,
Or is he going in to bat?

She's still not here,
I know she's not.
I don't want to tell her,
The custard's not hot.

Many a rhythm,
Many a rhyme.
Why is she taking
Such a long time?

I can't settle, to read,
To pick up a book.
He makes me feel nervous
With barely a look.

He makes me feel guilty,
But what have I done?
In comparison to his moon,
I am the sun!

A little overboard,
I know that, I'll stop.
But my mind keeps on racing.
I don't think I'll ever reach the top.

I'm proud of myself,
But why, I don't know.
All I can think is,
Go, Richard, go!

I'd burst into tears,
If only I could,
But somehow I can't,
Not that it would do any good.

I can still hear the van,
It's outside my room.
Oh, please hurry up!
Please come in soon.

It's not about trust.
I swear that's not it.
But he scares me to death.
Don't you feel it, a bit?

You shouldn't have to cope,
It's seriously not fair.
He should just go away.
He should never be there.

I'd write of something else,
If I could think of else to say.
But this seem to be the only thing
On my mind today.

Okay, think of what a twit,
I made myself the other night.
Oh, please no!
I wish to forget the sight.

My first instinct was right, I'd say,
It's better when not drunk.
I can't make a fool of myself,
When to drinking I've not sunk.

Still here? I'm sorry.
But I can't get over it.
I'm worried, my friend, that's all,
And alas, I do not knit.

So writing this is all I have,
Though it annoys you, I can tell.
Still, at least I care,
That you are happy and are well.

Finish now,
It's time to go to bed.
See you in the morning.
"That's what she said."