Wrath in a teacup
Tea, hot or cold, like a woman's wrath will flush through A woman's wrath is a cartel mystery A blend of gravel and wool So cold it burns bridges So hot it freezes passion A woman's wrath is tea An overwhelmed waitress serves the whole place, some passerbys even partaking, but the one who's order it is, just behind her, waiting and weary of being served I have been undone in needing calm and warmth I swore never again, deciding to find by myself But By the river you find them sweet and saucy Ben
