Lullaby for the Working Class: The Wounded Spider
There's no bruises on you to prove the abuse. You claim it's all an attempt to resurface pain I caused you. That's why you're such a mess. I feel all right. Feel somewhat guilty, feeling strong. Will the guilt ever cease? You can complain no one ever saw you more than the girlfriend because you never tried to be more to them. But I can't complain so neither can you. I'm sorry that I stand up straight. And sorry that you can not say what you mean. Take back all that we said. Lift up our shirts and compared our wounds. I feel good, so much better than before. There's no bruises on you to prove the abuse. You claim it's all an attempt to resurface pain I caused you. I'm sorry I met you. And I'm sorry that I stand up straight. Sorry that you can not say what you mean. Take back all that you said. Lift up your shirt and compare your wounds with mine.
Photograph by Wolfgang Tillmans
There's no bruises on you to prove the abuse. You claim it's all an attempt to resurface pain I caused you. That's why you're such a mess. I feel all right. Feel somewhat guilty, feeling strong. Will the guilt ever cease? You can complain no one ever saw you more than the girlfriend because you never tried to be more to them. But I can't complain so neither can you. I'm sorry that I stand up straight. And sorry that you can not say what you mean. Take back all that we said. Lift up our shirts and compared our wounds. I feel good, so much better than before. There's no bruises on you to prove the abuse. You claim it's all an attempt to resurface pain I caused you. I'm sorry I met you. And I'm sorry that I stand up straight. Sorry that you can not say what you mean. Take back all that you said. Lift up your shirt and compare your wounds with mine.
Photograph by Wolfgang Tillmans
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