Out of Here

I was stuck in a bell tower
And you call me your little flower
And it feels like more of the same
Does no one know my name?
Because I am made of fire and steel
Stop telling me how to feel
That I should be more genteel
I excoriate that even keel
Favoured by the normal folk
I will not shoulder the yoke
Of burdens that they always bear
There is a fabric I will tear
Of universal design
Then victory will be mine!

5 thoughts on “Out of Here

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