I’ve changed, damn it.
I’ve gone crazy in this world.
What a fine girl you were, loved the smiths.
I wanted you.
You stood in the river, caught fish with your hands, and held three-liter jars between your legs.
To me you are cold, for money you are hungry.
You're no good at working.
And
I went crazy, falling in love with you.
In bed
I’m like an electrician.
I don’t fear the socket.
I find a sweet treat, and phase meets neutral.
I say:
"Let’s go stack the hay."