Menopausal Maniac

In the drop of a dime    
I can turn into a fucking freak  
   
I whisper I am sorry, then hand you a glass of Scotch  
   
The flush starts    
My pores ooze beads of sweet smelling sweat  
   
Whispering I am sorry while reaching for the fan  
   
My mood begins to deteriorate  
Growing horns sharp as a killer's blade  
   
Listen to my whisper or I will have to fucking cut you  
   
As the horns slowly melt away  
I muster a wee shit eatin' grin  
   
Smiling through a whisper, I reach for the  damned booze  
   
I feel the way you look at me  
Wondering what the in fuck  
   
Turning away as I whisper I am sorry  
   
Its not my fault I am a multiple mess  
Please help me wait this shit out  
   
Not wanting to whisper anything anymore  
   
I know how I look  
Like death in a damned puke bucket  
   
I now feel your lips on mine, as I hear you whisper you love me