Treasure Island

H.J. Shreeve

(26/5/1987 / Hobart, Tasmania)

Hey, Cruel World


Hey, cruel world.
Leave me alone.
I'm tired and I'm broke.
A bitter old man,
25 years on and im still here,
A blob of blood on a ball of dirt.

When will the madness end?
When the bombs go off?
When your religions die?
When I conform to your every need?
I'm still tired and broke world!
Leave me alone...

Stop knocking at my door,
There is nothing left to save,
If god was alive,
Then he died this way,
Choking on his discontent,
Most likely.

Hey cruel world,
You tied me to the wicker chair,
dressed me in lace and painted my nails.
I can't smile pretty for you no more!

Your demands are insane,
I can't keep up,
How many do I have to buy?
Throw in some knives and you got a deal, world.

I can't have sex no more,
I know your just outside my window, it puts me off.
Will you spread your legs for me, world? ? ?
If I buy a that new car?
If I keep my self clean?
If I buy a little house in a neat little street?

Hey, cruel world.
Don't bother me!
Leave me alone,
I'm still broke and tired.
A blob of blood on a wicker chair,
A neat little house, spreading her legs.
A bitter old man choking on his discontent.
Most likely.

Submitted: Monday, July 16, 2012
Edited: Monday, July 16, 2012

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