Every Body Pushen' And Pullen' At Me

Everybody pushen' and pullen' at me
Tucking roses round my bedside,
like wasps around a tree.
And I can't seem to get up
what's the reason, anyway,
When all they do is promise me,
then bleed me dead away.
Like parasites to blue moths.
I'm some puppet on a string.
Measured in their happiness
when I yield the song they sing.
When I fit into the fine print
of their blue copied plans.
When I say the things they want me to,
do the things they think I can.

Everybody push'en and pull'en at me
Tucking roses round my bedside
like wasps around a tree.
And I can't seem to get up
the skies, a cavin' in -
And my spirit's getting thin
and my minds a breaking too!
And God knows its up to You!

Lady LaMythica
(Linda A. Copp)

July 28, 1971

By Lady LaMythica, Linda A. Copp © All rights reserved World Wide
including but not limited to 1972-2014