Maybe I`m a baby with a mouth to feed Maybe I`m a cancer waiting to eat Maybe I`m a razor on a wrist to bleed Maybe only water or a bucket of kerosene It`s alright We are landing this ship soon It`s alright No more trips around the moon
Momma does the dishes in her wedding ring Daddy never wishes now for anything Sister on the corner like a boy`s wet dream All little bit of hell in a bucket of velveteen
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