Pigeon Hole

Don’t try to put me in your pigeon hole,
don’t tell me how you sold your soul,
I don’t really want to know,
I’ve got problems of my own.
Don’t you know they broke the mold,
when they made me?
When they made me.

I don’t want to hear your tale of woe,
What you thought you knew or where you’d go,
If you had the chance to,
I don’t want to hear the tune you’d dance to,
Or how you thought you’d slip in here,
romance the pants off me.
I’m not what you think you see.
They broke the mold when they made me.
They broke the mold when they made me.

Surging somewhere deep inside,
rising up, the voice I hide,
coming like a heart attack,
Take cover.
Stand back.
There’s no way to turn the tide,
too much forward momentum,
Now you’re drowning in a sea of me,
and thank you for the roses,
I’m so glad you sent ’em.
As I am, or not at all.
As I am, take the fall.
Don’t put me in your pigeon hole.
I’m not going to sell my soul.

don’t you know they broke the mold?

When they made me.

when they made me.

 

 

ts

 

October 2006, Winsome Vein