Giving A F**k

My loving relationship with England

England you're so austere

Rain on duffle coat, soak

To the bone and banal moan

I love you!

But my life is young 

I have no-one with which to run

The fun of weather

Warm fires, glow

 

The separation between people is too much

I always feel far from you

Even though you tell me the truth

Even though you value me more

The distance between us is too much

 

I need more than the fire's glow

I need to know you in my clothes

In my face, hands and hair

I do not care for fleeting decency

I want raw virile touch

 

Now is all we ever have

So many times we've heard the words

Then why do Britons refuse to hug?

Why the lug of mundane days?

I'll burn up one day, Bham!

Gone!  So long!  So...

 

In this here tempestuous mind

Trying to justify myself

I've realized in all my frustrated anger

And without any eloquence

I don't give a f**k!

I'll give a f**k to touch