Yeah. That's right. I swear I'm going to bite you hard and taste your tinny blood. I'm just that mean. Don't mess.

Or maybe not...

why don’t you ever want to play?
i’m tired of this piece of string
you sleep as much as i do now and you
don’t eat much of anything
i don’t know who you’re talking to
i’ve made a search through every room
But all i found was dust that moved
and shadows of the afternoon

and listen
about those bitter songs you sing
they aren’t helping anything
they won’t make you strong

so we should open up the house
invite the tabby two doors down
you can ask your sister if
she doesn’t bring her basset hound
asked of things you shouldn’t miss
tape hiss and the modern man
cold war and card catalogues
to come and join us if they can

for girly drinks and parlour games
we’ll pass around the easy lie
of absolutely no regrets
then later maybe you could try
to let your losses dangle off
the sharp edge of the century
we’ll talk about the weather or
how the weather used to be

and i’ll cater
with all the birds that i can kill
let their tiny feathers fill
disappointment
lie down
and lick the sorrow from your skin
scratch the terror and begin
to believe you’re strong

all you ever want to do is drink and watch TV
frankly that thing doesn’t really interest me
i swear i’m going to bite you hard
and taste your tinny blood
if you don’t stop the self-defeating lies you’ve been repeating
since the day you brought me home

i know you’re strong.
-the weakerthans, "plea from a cat named virtue"

meow
-alison