I wonder if we'll smile in our coffins while loved ones mourn the day, the absence of our faces, living, laughing, eyes awake. Is this too much for them to take?
Too young for one's conclusion, the lifestyle won. Such values you taught your son. That's how.
Look at me now. I'm broken. Inherit my life.
One day we all will die, a cliched fact of life. Force fed to make us heed. Inbred to sponge our bleed. Every warning, a leaking rubber, a poison apple for mingled blood.
Too young for one's delusion the lifestyle cost Venereal Mother embrace the loss. That's how