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Me
(Dee Shipman
/ Charles Aznavour)
Me
No I am not what they believe
And I am not what they perceive
Though they imagine that they know me
Inside I’m taller than my size
Only the heart’s unerring eyes
Can truly show me
Me
Although I clown the wastrel ham
Debauched and drowning in absinthe
Indulging every aberration
I know my fate within my soul
Paris and painting are my goal
My destination
From Father, noble and effete
Who could not recognise his seed
In me, his own grotesque creation
To my mother crucified
A child immobile,l would hide
In stories and imagination
Me
Escaping from the château life
With canvas, brush, and palette knife
To leave behind me all my demons
To find a world a world apart
Which practiced only love and art
And really lived as true Bohemians
Me
I’m not seductive, have no grace
But I’ve known pleasure in embracing
Girls of light and easy virtue
The heavy girls who dance can-can
In vulgar joints, exhaust a man…….
But seldom hurt you
Me
Disguising feelings and this form
Flirting with ridicule and scorn
Forgetting all in drunk defences
Vomiting more than gall and shame
More than my title and my name
More than my senses
I am a tempest of defiling
Contradiction and denial
A traitor to my class and forebears
For in my weakness I confess
I think it nobler to possess
The dignity an honest whore bears
Me
Who some will sneer at with disdain
Judging my size and faults and pain
From heights of ponderous pretension
They are the midgets to my eyes
Lower than insects, I despise
These cretin dwarfs of condescension
Me
No I am not what they believe
And I am not what they perceive
Explore the cripple God has made me
Beyond the creature, look inside
These ugly walls they so deride
Is beauty hidden there?
WeIl, maybe…………….
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