My Anger

I've got my anger

It feels like the only thing

That's left of me now

I love my anger

The taste of metal in my mouth

Trying to sort these feelings out

I've got my anger

I keep it close to me

Protecting me

I need my anger

The boiling blood runs through my veins

Keeps me sane

Barbed is how I feel

Reminds me who I am

Who I am

That's not a dog howling

That's someone pretending to be a dog howling

Down the bottom of Preston Street

October wasps, September days

Walking through the morning haze after a short summer

You always looked to the ground, I always looked at the sky

Uncomfortable in your skin and never any good with authority

Remember to feed the right wolf

Don't feed the bad wolf

I've got my anger

It feels like the only thing

That's left of me now

I love my anger

The taste of metal in my mouth

Trying to sort these feelings out

Barbed is how I feel

Reminds me who I am

Who I am

It feels like everyone else is in a club that you're not a member of

Detective Shirley Lee

Sometimes we're fine for a while but it all comes back

Darker horses, sixteen lights

And while we were worrying about something

Trivial, something really bad happened

Impending doom, always a sense of impending doom

Lying there watching the lights move across

The ceiling as the cars drive by outside

And nobody seems to have noticed all

The magpies gathering in the fields

Remember to feed the right wolf

Don't feed the bad wolf