you appeared bitter
about the love i had
and the joy i had found
was it my fault your gold mine collapsed
and you were stuck underground

you are a beautiful woman
you do not know it
you do not dress up
and you do not show it

when i was broken
what could i say
seventeen and dreams
they seem so far away
thirty one now,
and facing my big day

as the anger bubbled
and the bitterness flows with such spittle
when you have reinforced your shallowness
because it is so brittle

are we soulmates?
well they found me –
on a bench at sixteen
and nothing –
was the same ever again

my relationships are fine
i asked on saturday night
after the girls had finished the wine
they drew me near,
so we moved onto the beer