Time softened the edges
Wore down the dangerous demeanour
Blunted the horns on top of my head
Little trace of that famous defiance
On the outside of this monster
That walks amongst you
But inside?
Still blazing
Still nothing that you are
Ear-aching i-pod buds
Thunder his howling
His raging luminescence
Fires up the beast inside
Has me swaying
Snake-hips twitching
Contorting my face
Silent-shrieking every line
On this morning tram
Surrounded by shoppers
And assorted poor meek souls
Trying to get to work
I am that thing
That crazy in the corner
Wild eyed and mouthing
‘No, I don’t have a gun’
‘No, I don’t have a gun.’