you run to the gate
but you'll be marked late
it's for your own good
it's for your own goodyou're likely to make the grandest mistakes
you suffer alone
in the skin and the bonelet's sharpen those
new sets of arrows
for the next generation
of playground martyrsand join in the game
of intolerable shame
'cos everyone shares
in the sins of their father's
school bell rings
single file in
trade you my unhappily everafters
so bring out those things
to hammer out the wings
of the next generation
of playground martyrs
