Tear her, spare her.

You bedded her like a princess
And called her a whore
Hey do you know that was exactly
What someone did to her before?
She was at her listening best
You found her a stupid bore
Now she kisses your picture
As you loathe to even think of her.

There's a radical confusion
She's been spiralling in
She loves you but refuses
To let you back in her life to tear
Tear her, and pull her faith apart
As she holds out to you her bleeding heart.

You were slightly impressed
By the best of her talents
You spoke of being a producer
To her songs you weren't even patient to hear
You spoke of empty words she spoke while
Your actions screamed disrespect in her face
Are you happy now, o sweet womaniser,
That you've flicked her away like your used cigarette?

There's an indignant reconciliation
The way she's found peace within
She prays for your safety but accepts
Only her loss with none of yours you have spare
Spare her, and don't put in hollow words of care
As you'd hold out a burning matchstick in the rain.

- 1st Auôt, 2006.