Narrow minded fools,
That believe my preference is a choice!
Be a degenerate on society,
I’d rather be!
Not that I look down upon I!
I did choose to be gay? Right?
Could I not control my natural urges?
To choose to be a disappointment in my own fathers eyes?
To weep at night,
To confront my worst fears.
To lie through my teeth,
So I could be classed as normal.
What is normal in loveless relationship?
Is that what it is to be in love?
Oh that’s right, I chose to be gay,
I chose to be that tortured soul,
To look upon walls for numbers,
Through peephole in public toilets of Heathrow.
I chose to have that dirty secret.
Dirty old pubs, that are hidden in the middle of nowhere.
A place for people like me to go,
I thought we’re meant to be bold and proud.
Oh that’s right,
I chose to be called queer!
I hold his hand with pride,
Though at times I feel ashamed.
Times are changing,
Yet we’re still hiding!