What Do You Mean, I’m Screeching?
Of course…it’s all I know. I met a smooth philanderer, and it made my thinking so. He flirted and he fiddled, he rang me night and day. He offered me his putter, but then refused to play. He shook my heart to pieces, and then fed it to the dogs. He whispered midnight prattle that left me in a fog. Years and year he shadowed, watched my every turn. Set fire to my resistance, then snickered as it burned. And then when I was snookered, he had me on the line. I found his flaunt and flattery was really just design.
What do you mean, I’m screeching? Well, yes I am beseeching, for justice for my pain. He prides and preens in the sunshine, while I languish in the rain. This outrage has me crow’in, it has my daggers show’in. I need to find requital, for all the snow he’s blow’in. Yes, you’ve heard me screeching, my mind and soul beseeching, for fair and just return. As, this time it is my pleasure, I’ll stand in sunny weather, and let him feel the burn.
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