You run around and I am stuck in you God, it's a nightmare Calling out, calling out, calling out in the Middle, middle, middle of the night Waking you up: I am still here I am still here, you know You couldn't smother me if you tried I show up, I show up, I show up in the Middle, middle, middle of the night Waking you up: Shouldn't we be living on Hydra? Wearing white clothes, drinking white wine, sleeping around Warm bodies soaking in the sunlight Shouldn't we sing Russian folk songs through the night Roll the dice Don't go gentle into that good, good night Taste the question: How good would you get if you lived a poet's life You're off to work and it is 8.05 God, I despise you Picking up, picking up, picking up kids and food at 4 pm Like art ends in the afternoon Sense the moist on the tip of your tongue: What if you weren't depending on anyone? I know sometimes when you are all alone You play with the idea of devoting your life to the song I am still here I am still here, you know You tried to kill me all these years I show up, I show up, I show up in the Middle, middle, middle of the night Waking you up: Shouldn't we be living on Hydra? Finally getting the recognition we deserve! Shouldn't somebody be serving us? Shouldn't we sing Russian folks songs through the night? Shouldn't you drink young male bodies through the night? How good would you get if you lived a poets life -