Volatile Bag Lady

Listening to the podcast ‘This Is Criminal’ and heard the phrase “volatile bag lady”. Such an odd thing to say, but can also make sense…though how often are we talking about crazy bag ladies and needing to describe them as being volatile? Yea, I’d hope not much. So naturally I decided to write a punk song about it. Like old school punk with little or no course and the song is under a minute! One, two, three, four …

 

Here I am, here I am

Out on the streets, a volatile bag lady

You don’t want to meet

Matted dirty hair, with gross and rooting teeth

I sleep where I can, and rarely get to eat

I used to go to doctors, I’d take my kids to school

Now here I am a bag lady, and I’m life’s fucking fool

My day starts whenever, and ends when it does

I smoke a few butts, get half a sandwhich

And I’ll drink cough syrup for a buzz

Here I am, here I am

No, wait, please don’t see

This is someone else’s life, it really can’t be me

I try and hide my face, just to bury the shame

So here I am, here I am

Out on the streets, a volatile bag lady

With no one left to love me.

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