Another trip to the land of corridors
New excuse at the ready
They know me by now
Can they not tell?
Its all a bit predictable
That bit too familiar
You would think
Sipped on ice
Fell down stairs
Tough rugger match
Nasty stick tackle
Was cutting vedge
A bit of a scrap
Butter fingers
I never look
I simply do not think
I have a lot of enemies
You see
The truth is screaming at them
I am screaming at them
Silently
This time could be different
It could just slip out
Could it?
