Pages and pages and pages of poetry
I am not doing so well
Teach me the Bible, the scriptures, disciples
and baby teach me how to spell
My mother and father they got for a daughter
I wish that I could have been more
They were so proud when I learned how to walk
but since then I just lay on the floor
Then I lay
Rosary's safe and my pillow is hair
I'm coming to town, I'll call you when I get there
Nightmare explosions, and gentle corrosions
I never back down from a dare
But you wasted the gift that I tried hard to give
and you think that it's all so unfair
but after you spit and you stab and you seethe
do you really expect me to care?
That you lay
Over and under, backwards and blundering
Let me get out of your hair
Making me hate, I hope that you're wondering
How will I ever repair?
But you'll be so sorry when you find my body
Riddled with all your complaint
And all of your smoke and your mind is a joke
Did it hurt you so much that you lay?
That you lay
I lie down here, I lay down with the flies and the lilies you despise.
