Little lady sitting in your chair
Screaming because you cannot curl your hair
Screaming for you want to go to bed
Screaming for a pillow for your head
You tell me no one listens when you shout
Your voice unpleasant makes us shut it out.
Your motive is the power to dominate.
That is not love it seems to me like hate.
Some things we can’t get by force of will
We only have the power to make men ill.
I now believe in witches you are one.
When you die the witches will be gone.
I thought that I could love the human race
Until I saw the contours of your face