The Larcenist creeps in their graves might be so
but what they did to us God alone needs to know
their unbelievable arrogance an repugnance we knew
that loathing and hostility that really was true
as children the buggery was hard to bear
an abomination a world of despair
our teachers were monsters
denouncing their role
Killing our spirit taking over our soul
such soreness the offences the smouldering pain
and bitter resentment blood falling like rain
revengefulness spite it was all everywhere
an affront to our being and our being aware
stolen from parents whose love was supreme
so much indignation tantrums that scream
gnashing our teeth resenting the need
to be beaten and vanquished and just left to bleed
imagine it will you teachers their scowl
their rancour so virulent yes every foul
deed in their armoury they yes did share
splenetic and spiteful that they were not there
How we suffered alone incensed by it all
we foamed at the mouth for no one heard our call
frenzied they beat us our backsides as red
as the fire in the grate yes when we lay dead
venting their spleen insulting our need
we carried their cross and their every misdeed
we never knew love not from these bastards they
were irascible pricks at the end of the day
such provocation yes the last straw
Embittered were we our bodies raw
burning and speechless on the cold floor
Our feet and toes bleeding we couldn’t take anymore
Forbidding and ugly like tinder they burned
bruised us and cut us and no one was concerned
thousands beaten blue left to die where we lay
vicious their acerbity their unholy way
Of life in the raw, such gloating joy
merciless fiendishness they did employ.
buried us one by one in the damp ground
all lost forever to heaven bound
their mean profanity their ugly guile
and all of those bastards would never face trial
the Church no pity, the church no heart
intolerant bastards right from the start
mistrust and envy rotten to the core
how I loved my mother and wanted her more.