This mother's den is running opened

Where I get judgement from a laughing shill

This author's pen is breaking upwards

No way to play it like I don't want you

The situation calls for earnest

But I imagine it'd be complex

In little time when I fault patience

From the corners where you don't expect

Throw it away in the night I forfeit fate

Then let him promise that he may as well have it

You'll get the nation to come back out

The kind of shame I'm taught to bear