Baby Crying
Bastard media-fed child
Impossible to tell when she'll finally snap
Killing herself on the bedroom floor
Gyrating on her bedroom floor
No telling when she went wild
Media-bloated anorexia-drained
Impossible to imagine the exact nature of her pain
Not enough to tell her good-night
Her mommy doesn't care
Not enough to just shut off her light
Smoke fills the air
Darkness smells like weed
Her daddy smells of greed
Exploiting her before she even turns on the TV
Uses drugs to paint the pain and the noise in her head white
Impossible to tell where she goes when she dies each night
Not about to start living
Not about to start caring about living a life she has no control over
And then her mommy tells her goodnight
Her mommy turns out the light
Her mommy doesn't care
Her mommy can't smell the smoky air for the bacon she's burning out there
She's killing herself on the bedroom floor
Gyrating wildly madly lethally impossibly on her bedroom floor
She doesn't know what to kill herself with
So she twists like a fish in death
And exhales the smoke on her breath
Her mommy turned out the light
Her mommy doesn't care
Then she lights up again and again and again and again and again and again
Bastard little kid with no luck
Impossible to tell if she'll ever really give a f**k
Lying on her bedroom floor
Smoking on her bedroom floor
When she finally gave up looking for an answer
No telling when she started feeding hr tumors and cancers
Media-bloated anorexia-drained
Smoked until she floated and until she died or at least killed her brain
Her mommy shut off the light
Her mommy don't care
Her mommy told her goodnight
And once again she puts lots of smoke into the air
Twists like a fish dying
Gyrates like a baby crying
Because that's all she really is
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This was combination of... a style of music, a style of life, and a style of emotional trauma... the tail end of the tempest. Like I've mentioned in another page, life without Christ is a life in pain.
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Email: zer0_star@angelfire.com
