A boys mind at fourteen Is something that should be seen All those butterflies Aching to be released Every word queuing up Is an arrow waiting to fly...
When the Chain grips the cogs And you Throw us to the dogs Will you Recycle the lies And wear Your old school ties As you Hoist up the sails To go On...
There’s gold in them their teeth glowing from beneath the mouths of those who have traded their souls and paid off their moles for all their secrets...