Monday, February 18, 2008

F the F-Word

Sometimes a gal needs to tell it like she wishes she could see it.



With you I'm not a little girl, with you I'm not a man
When all the hurt inside of me comes out, you understand
You see that I'm ferocious, you see that I am weak
You see that I am silly, and pretentious and a freak

But I don't feel too strange for you
Don't know exactly what you do
I think when love is pure you try
To understand the reasons why
And I prefer this mystery
It cancels out my misery
And gives me hope that there could be
A person that loves me

Rescue me
Your love has given me hope
Rescue me
I'm drowning, baby throw out your rope

With you I'm not a fascist, can't play you like a toy
And when I need to dominate, you're not my little boy
You see that I am hungry for a life of understanding
And you forgive my angry little heart when she's demanding
You bring me to my knees while I'm scratching out the eyes
Of a world I want to conquer, and deliver, and despise
And right while I am kneeling there
I suddenly begin to care
And understand that there could be
A person that loves me

Love is understanding
It's hard to believe life can be so demanding
I'm sending out an S.O.S.
Stop me from drowning baby I'll do the rest

Rescue me
Your love has given me hope
Rescue me
I'm drowning, baby throw out your rope

5 Comments:

At 7:03 AM, Blogger Whitenoise said...

Madonna gets S.A.D.?

Sunshine, baby. Cash in those miles...

 
At 9:11 PM, Blogger rgraham666 said...

You never struck me as a damsel-in-distress, Sheena.

But if you need, lemme break out my arsenal. Needs a little maintenance, but should serve.

 
At 10:42 PM, Anonymous Midnight Fire said...

Sometimes we temporarily lose 'the fire in our soul' or the 'fire of our youth'---call it what you will, but don't fret, it always comes back...

Best to express it (as you may have), than keepin' it inside, which leads many people to lives of 'quiet desperation'...

Good Luck, and hang in there Babe!

M/T

 
At 3:07 AM, Anonymous M/T said...

Sheena

For a little glimpse of higher
We have a lifetime to aspire
By the magic of the soul
The love you give
never takes a toll

If by chance you are in need
and the wind is your desire
Then the summons of your creed
Will return as Cossack fire


Midnight

 
At 8:27 PM, Anonymous spy said...

What's all this hubbub about? I'm lost, as usual. Does it have anything to do with the 2 billion cups of coffee?

 

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