Like a turd on the wire,
like a punk with his pants on fire
In my mind, all the time: only me.
Like a worm on a hook,
like a thief or an old fashioned crook
I have saved all my worst things for thee.
When I, when I have been unkind,
I hope that you really don’t mind.
When I, when I have been untrue
I hope that you still haven’t a clue.
Like a monster, deformed,
like a beast with his horn
I have torn all who don’t think like me.
But I swear by this song
and by all whom I have wronged
I will do it again, just you see.
I saw a poor man leaning on his wooden crutch,
I said to him, “You must not ask for so much.”
And a filthy rich man leaning on my opened door,
I cried to him, “Hey, why not ask for more?”
Oh like a turd on the wire,
like a punk with his pants on fire
In my mind, all the time: only me.
(with acknowledgements and apologies to the late, great Leonard Cohen)