Fit Boy

You don't see me at all
shifting feet at your door
squatting meekly, weekly 
on your fat fringes
ignore my pained twinges

Maybe I've faded
got jaded, not made it
to your top table for milk
Your pulpit jive, 
smooth as silk
it's not alive
I want more, I need meat
you're too neat, too white    
way too uptight
I want to play football
 in your hall, plant
dead leaves and muddy prints
The bloody Prince, Lord of All
loved my mess.  I'll confess
all I want is to make my mark
it's but a lark 
just to say "I woz 'ere!"
I'm still here...

Wonder why I bother 
why I still hover 
like a fly in your ointment, at the edge
what's these vows that you've pledged?
Be my friend
to the end, come what may
you would stay if I play
the game your way. Your only hook
 is that Good Book
So I'm tethered still by each tock
of your Swiss precision clock
But I wanna swing on your weather vane
bungee jump again and again
off the rude rood screen, drop
my mask, sing hip hop 
to pipe organ, my  only song 
is really that I'll never belong

Some days I'd rather choke 
on beer and cheap smokes
than your incense and wine for the saints
paint me a sinner's rainbow of fresh hope 
so I'll cope 
with your Sunday snubs 
how I'm not wanted  in  your club

Come meet me in a bar
in a caff, in a car, I don't care
just not there, now that's a prayer
Absolve me if you dare
if it's considered a sin
but soon as I get out
the sooner I'll fit in

Miss my bum on your seat?
Have no fear, I won't miss a beat
Disappearing's become my art
I'll be dancing the funky chicken
on the mean altar of your heart