Better Day
I have lived in a junkyard where the weeds eat up the rain
You get anything there even out of place
You know theres hell to pay
(Chorus)
He says I’m as sick as I am lovely
And in need of a hand
He tells me I’m never worthy
I was a child you see
That’s my reality
Sick little girl dirty and hard with a breast plate made of metal
She drives all day in a rusty buick and her feet dont reach the petal
She holds a jar of flies fathers disguise where his heart should be
Her mouth is sewn together
She screams with those eyes
(Chorus)
Shes as sick as she is lovely
And in need of a hand
Tells her she’s never worthy
Shes all alone you see
That’s her reality
Should been sleepin shoulda been dreamin but I wake up to broken glass
Be one more empty desk in my homeroom class
Got an old bone pocket knife tight in my right hand
To save my poor mother from the junkyard man
(Chorus)
Hes as sick as he is lovely
And in need of a hand
He will know hes unworthy
He will die out on these streets
That’s his reality
I’m not sick
I am lovely
Hatred is the curse of man
I will not feel unworthy
I have washed my hands you see
That’s my reality