i will always be james
with that half baked childhood
and his, will it take contradictions

i am dying inside
dare i say it,
torn from limb to limb
where do i begin?

solitude has pulled up a chair
and lent forwards, just to be near
it asks me, why do i cry

desperation will haunt these eyes
if i do not get this job
we have sat on the cliff
and we have gone to the top

and when you pull up,
at life’s toll booth
it will not be hugs all round
you will be asked for payment
and you will be searching for that pound