Theme From Becky

She was a smart kid

Smart girl, soft eyes

Took in a hard world and saw it

Fast forward

She’s moving for money in bars full of tourists

She’s moved up to massage

She’s happy, she’s in charge

Talking to clients

Adoring the silence

Of after the session

Her and the night air

How to be more than the sum of your parts?

She knows how they see her but they don’t know half

I never wanted to be anybody other

Than the person that I am

And the things that I discovered

In the circles that I ran

Have been difficult and humbling

Some don’t understand

But I’m happiest when struggling

She’s not reluctant to touch

It’s the one thing

That must bring us closer together

It’s such an important endeavour

To feel tender

She can’t believe there are some

Who have never been held in their lives

Eight months in a boardroom

Three on the motorway

One in a small room

Watching the dawn loom large over grey bricks

It’s not sordid, it’s sacred

To open them up to the warmth

Of her nature; it’s ancient

She don’t wanna do it forever

But let’s face it

Wages are fucked

And rent is outrageous

Some might say that she’s being degraded

But she makes her own mind up

Knows her own morals

She don’t care ‘bout how most people see it

One man’s certain is another man’s squabble

Life’s to be lived

Not agreed with

She’s making her living

And she’s making it safely

Better than slaving away in an office

Or killing herself to fill some boss’s pockets

Working for peanuts and making them conkers

I never wanted to be anybody other

Than the person that I am

And the things that I discovered

In the circles that I ran

Have been difficult and humbling

Some don’t understand

But I’m happiest when struggling

Well all of us walk to our own beat

And each person’s rhythm is unique

You can’t hear somebody’s tune

If you count in your time

You must count their time

To enjoy how their mind

Makes its music

She fell in love with a suitor

His name was Pete and while she was at work

He got stoned and watched snooker

And when she got home he cooked food for them both

They were happy and close

But she could feel it pulling at the threads of their tapestry

Unravelling all that he knew to be true

He’s the type to say, ‘This is reality’

He finds it very hard to alter his view

But, gradually

She has felt less and less certain

That his understanding would stretch

And now she’s got to justify all her decisions

But he doesn’t listen, just gets upset

But she, in her wisdom, is ready to try

She thinks of his feelings

She kisses his neck in the evenings

Tells him, for them she’s a sweet thing

In-between meetings

But he has her depth and the whole of her

But when he’s holding her hand

It feels less like her hand

And more like his hand

And when he’s kissing her face

It feels less like her face

And more like his face

She’s become displaced

Is she herself?

Or is she the girl that he wants her to be?

She tells him, ‘I don’t want to hurt you

But your judgements are heavy

And they’re hurting me.’

I never wanted to be anybody other

Than the person that I am

And the things that I discovered

In the circles that I ran

Have been difficult and humbling

Some don’t understand

But I’m happiest when struggling