I remember well the agony
My swollen feet as tortured as the Christ
How could I think well when this struck me?
The boss was never prone to Charity.
Unlike Jesus I would never rise
I remember well that agony
My mind was absent I could barely see.
I could not get away unless I died
How could I think well when this struck me?
I laughed when I read that all men are free.
They did not know that everyone will lie
I remember formless agony
I should have crawled away,I could not be
Why did I not find a better guide
How could I think well when this struck me?
How did I exist as murdered bride
The spear invisible in my own side.
I think that most good people would agree
The world was never made for folk like me