The Dinner
They hide between two sinking shoulders
And take back what was rightfully theirs
You know it's not right for me to know
Fish in a cage not in the mud
They chop their trees and build themselves a house
It's just a phase
They make themselves dinner
They live under a leaking floor
They're tugging on the roots of evermore
Fish in a cage not in the mud
Writer/s: Jack Simons
