Ready For the Monkeyhouse

Your face is like the moment when

the sexist hero traps the slippy villain

with the weasel face

You don't have to speak

- your expression is the truth that your words don't say

and the truth won't go away

In many dark corners

I have asked myself about this;

did you do it out of malice

Did you fall or were you kissed ?

Would you ask your friend

with the cowboy jacket and the boots up to his knee

would he shut his mouth for me ?

I've heard just enough

all I want to hear about pipes and drums

and how little time it takes the klutz to come

The golden gift of silence

is I don't have to hear him speak

So would you get him out yourself

before I put you both back in the street

Now the story shifts

and we see a young man standing in the wings

too old before his time

Collecting grey hairs, he's proud and he's scared

and he says he doesn't care

- how can he be so blind ?

So how did you corrupt him ?

You must have got him where it counts

Now he's so numb he's ready to freeze

and I'm ready for the Monkeyhouse !