Little is as always was
When romance still was king
Days of prose and days of poems
And days of songs to sing
I looked across a sea of smiles
And none were turned to me
For old I was in my ways
And not I'm meant to be

In the time of here and now
Another man is sought
His mouth must curse the one he's with
And she'll so be caught
Call her whore, call her slut
To you they will gather
Be like me and show respect
And son you will not have her

I have tried to be the man
That I was taught to be
Do not curse, show respect
Just brought me misery
I sometimes try to wear a mask
And be the cur girls seek
Soon still I find it is not me
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