Sitting in the office, the need to unleash,
The inner working of the beast,
When my work appropriate dress,
Is lost for fishnets and spandex.
Or perhaps at a child’s birthday party,
When I dance on the bar and bust out the Bacardi,
Waiting for my child at school as I wreak havoc,
Insisting all mothers air guitar as I sing Black Sabbath.
Or perhaps sitting bored at a meeting,
I’ll jump up and scream, “I can’t hear you Cleveland!!”
All these thoughts barely contained,
As I apologetically explain,
That I used to play in a rock n’ roll band,
And never expect them to understand.