The Abortionist

I miss the small things
And silly things
Within me
In me

As tight and clean as I could’ve been
At just seventeen
Well then sixteen
Y’know what I mean

A Street like any street you see
In the lowest class of town
At the lowest class of night

He was aspic in ermine
Feeding from vermin
From vermin

Its common sense
Common sense
Common sense
Common sense
In my defence
In my defence

Left just his wallet
With sod all in it
To feed me
Feed it

Thought if I didn’t see it no more
It wouldn’t be there
But I have

Untaken photographs
Unwritten epitaphs
Condemn me

But vacant young mothers
Choke down the butter
Afforded by taking
Their unwanted flutter

But vacant young mothers
Choke down the butter
Afforded by taking
Their unwanted flutter

Its common sense
Common sense
Common sense
Common sense
In my defence
In my defence

They miss the small things
And silly things
Within them
In them

Smashed shell with stolen pearls
Daddies but not daddies little girls
Little girls

And if a housewife
Had a choice
Carbolic tubes
Assumed her voice

And if a housewife
Had a choice
Carbolic tubes
Assumed her voice

Its common sense
Common sense
Common sense
Common sense
In my defence
In my defence

© Owen Emmerson & Michael Whitehead (2012)

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