Do you want my thoughts?
Do you want to know what makes me tick?
Should I make your degree worthwhile?
I’ll lie back and lie on your couch for awhile
Should I tell you about my childhood?
So that I can hear you tell me it’s impossible
‘No child was brought up that happy,’
You postulate with your doctorate
Do want to know where all the anger comes from?
Is it inside me or the fruition of knowing you?
Could it be that I’m not really angry
and that’s just how you’re interpreting me?