WHEN
When I was a little girl, my nanny always said, I was brave and strong and bright and had a lot to gain. Ten years on and I'm a wreck, my morbid soul is filled with pain. Not moving forward, just going back, to that dreaded day. Over and over in my mind, the worm wont change, won’t go away, my mind can’t grow til it goes but when will that be the day.

MY GOD
Lips like dope, Eyes full of feeling, Skin so white, as clear as ice. Black locks smooth, so soft and lovely. Slim line body, scared for life, tells so many stories. Voice like coke, Songs full of meaning, Music overwhelmed with passion And feeling. Touched the heart and soul for life, Changed my world, I have a home.

WHY?
I don’t understand why, this is happening, if there is a god, what have I done wrong? If not then, what am I doing wrong? I’m not a sinner, but I might as well be, condemned to pain, since I was young, hell is right here, inside my body, if there was a god, he wouldn’t last a day in my body. I do my best, yet get stabbed in the back, not knowing how, where or when it will stop. I’m loosing my mind, my friends, my family, this world is dead, killed long ago, how are we suppose to grow.

LOCKED IN
The walls are tall, Are small and cold, there is no way out, of this hellhole. To use this key, I need the door, it is nowhere in sight, to be seen. Lost inside, its cold and dark, i've lost my way, caught and tied, I cannot find. Where is the will to find, to use this key of mine, the door is nowhere to be seen, why is this world so fucking mean. The way is close, I can feel it now, but I cannot find, locked in darkness. Where is the will to find, to use this key of mine, the door is nowhere to be seen, maybe one day I will find.

OBSCENE
I’m obscene, and fucking proud, A freaky, ugly, looking gal. I use my fist, and not my mouth. I use my heart, and not my head, Do as I please, go where I want, Life’s a bore, following rules. You’re Monkeys on strings, Not doing a thing, But getting depressed, watching TV, And reading false things. Things about God, which is the book of lies, get of your ass, and get a fucking life.

DIVIDED
Monkey toys, and girls and boys, Pink ribbons, and blue toys. You are monkeys on strings, Split apart from the start, where did things go so very wrong. I’m no monkey not even a gal, but a piece of art in the making, never ending Just re arranging, always changing. Never to be sold, too obscene, to be seen for the Monkeys clones on their weak strings. You may not see me, but you will feel me, I’m in the air, we are everywhere. The time has come, to bring new things, a fresh new look, and brand new dreams. A world undivided, is all you pray, But that will never be the way. So live your life as you please, and not under a shadow, called the shadow of god.

ROTTEN FRUIT
Rotting like fruit, torn from the tree, it tasted good at first, then turned from bad to worse. In the dirt it belongs, “your one of us now”, sinners grown. From the trees, The clones laugh and stare, they may look ripe, they may look clean, “you’re one of them now, your place in the mud, no good for nothing, nothing at all”. They all stand and laugh, But all god's children are nothing at all, Rotten from the inside, Inside the core. The tables have turned, the mud is grass, Ripe and strong, we belong. Keep your fruits in the trees, we don’t need you, we don’t need nothing at all, the tree is dying if not already dead. Now look whose looking down laughing at you dead.

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Marilyn Manson Freak 2003 © Clare Manson