I took a leave to raise hell
Now my baby’s grown
But she’s grown so complacent
traipsing out on her own
I’ve got to exercise my demons
Before they all go soft
Worry, worry, why you worry
About her all the time?
Well, I’ve gotten so much practice,
It’s become a point of pride
I’ve got to exercise my demons
Before they start to stray away from me
When I’ve got nothing to say, I will force it
I will cozen, cajole, and coerce it, coax it forth
There’s nothing worse than shooting a gift horse,
Then beating it past death, only to kneel
And kiss your jockey’s feet
Tell me, who’s that red devil
In the powder blue tie?
But, then again, when my blues burn green,
Who am I?
I’ve got to exercise my demons,
Before they all turn yellow
I bite my words back,
It’s like keeping down live eels
I could eat a ten-course meal
Of what I thought I ought to feel
I’ve got to exercise my demons:
It’s just too many mouths to feed
It’s a backwards forward motion
A lone blowup boat in a hopeless ocean
It’s punctured, but it’s floating
Got no heading, but I’m rowing,
If only to put the sky and the sea behind me
I’m hotter than a comet
Making steam in the rain
Set them Furies on me, please:
I’m killing urges I cannot contain
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