I'm tired of getting lost in fireworks' woods.
I wonder if you want me to confess.
Don't bother trying handle swinging moods -
tomorrow you'll find one to clean the mess.
I hope there's nothing on to keep you up
like me. No worries - paying for the past.
That's great about you: knowing how to stop,
it's helpful, too, when time is up at last..
That's cruel enough: to crush the World of OZ
without even trying to forget.
At least, it's not my call - to up the dose
Each day, until it turns into regret
'bout something that you hadn't even thought
through. It's just simply a waste of time
and nerves. Everything you hadn't bought
at some Price is the subject of the Crime.
I'm lucky you're not in reading mood
'cause this might've already made me caught.
I'm Grandma of the great Red Riding hood,
still hoping for the better