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Untitled Document CATHERINE

And those whims and those wayward ways
Just crippled by words and sensual strays
But that’s not your worth, that’s not your due
People can feel you are there,
But no one can touch you
And when you smile, I smile too Catherine
It’s not like Walsall with those parochial slags
Your world is smaller than washing dishes
And carrying bags
And when you bleed from that sacred heart
He looks so languildy lost as she is falling apart
But when you cry, I cry too Catherine
But I’m in love, yes aren’t we all Catherine