This mother's den is running opened Where I get judgement from a laughing shill This author's pen is breaking upwards No way to play it like I don't want you The situation calls for earnest But I imagine it'd be complex In little time when I fault patience From the corners where you don't expect Throw it away in the night I forfeit fate Then let him promise that he may as well have it You'll get the nation to come back out The kind of shame I'm taught to bear