I’m inspired by the clock ticking on the wall
Outside of the door in the hall
Scratches in the stalls
Someone tried to scrawl
Taking their last breath
For help they tried to call
Yellow hearts tag the doors
Babies crawling across dirty floors
Believe me this is not the half of it
I’ve seen all of it
My tears are in my spit
All over the ground
Watch your step you might go down
My broken wings are sore
Say to me no more
This letter is torn
You’ve been warned
My eyes are sore
No more to be poured
Dried up like a reservoir
Just one look and we go to war
Just how far beyond the grave
From a slave to a maid
Blood was paid
What did the letter say?
Is it a bill that I must pay?
Burn it in the ashtray
The alarm is tweaking
Like the batteries low
Children too many stories high
Too many mamas down below
Choking on smoke
Screaming
"MY CHILD"
"MY CHILD"
"MY CHILD"
Dope