Maybe Im a baby with a mouth to feed
Maybe Im a cancer waiting to eat
Maybe Im a razor on a wrist to bleed
Maybe only water or a bucket of kerosene

Its alright
We are landing this ship soon
Its 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 boys wet dream
All little bit of hell in a bucket of velveteen

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