Bright Blue

I'm angry. You told me we'd be all right
But we are not all right. I'm sick and tired
Of life, of wondering when I'll be fired,
Of worrying about you overnight,
About myself all day; my will to fight
Is gone, my library card is expired,
And this relationship in which we're mired
Stirs unhealthy debate and wicked fright.

It's Hallowe'en again, like yesterday,
Tomorrow, too, day after day, our masks
On fire, our wigs bright blue. Open the casks
And pour the sherry. Then we'll be okay,
As long as I remember what to say
About our love, if anybody asks.