smoke will line up and your stiff bones will bend
only the hard-pressed will count in the end
your will as strong as a poor man's conviction
wavering only to feed your addiction
identities lost in the black soupy bay
life swirling 'round about them as they pray
charcoal marks hard against smooth silky skin
waiting below for your life to begin.
a child sits quiet to wait for her mother
in turn, she's collecting her dreams up to smother
nicotine, coke and a bottle of vodka
she's drowning alive with her well-hidden trauma
spreading the word of her god down below
crushing the bugs without simple hello
harmony splits with her hard-listened second
torturing ears with her crying as threatened.
a chorus of angels will back mama's reason
forcing us into her easier season
baby blue eyes and a simmering brain
staring ahead while she drips down the drain
eyes screaming red with the weight of her sorrow
hope above hope she won't be here tomorrow
line up the poison alone on the sink
perfectly straight right before her first drink.