On a good day, Adorned with skimpy clothes should bring creases to his forehead, No longer a little girl carried high on his neck
On a good day, She should have brought out her maternal claws, Tearing out the offending garments,
On a good day, He shouldn't be leering at me with slimy, oily looks, After hard labour in his equally oily shop
On a good day, He shouldn't be here under the secrecy of the night, Large, rough hands fondling down south, Jacking away my innocence, as he does his inflated tires
On a good day, She shouldn't have protected his name, "it's not heard of" she sneered, Her precious second chance at Love is not to blame, Her "evil seductress" of a child is
On a good day, I wouldn't be going on a short long journey Which requires just six feet, Her songs of regret a blanket of discomfort in my cold grave
On a good day, The only song worth singing now is silence!