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Starving The South

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Left the warmth of the womb
To find yourself in my room
Lust has found you content
With a chip on your shoulder
And a slit up your dress
I want nothing to do with this
I want nothing to do with
I want nothing to do with this
I want nothing to do with

I've got the coin to match your two sides
You're a setup, a fucking setup
Fifty percent of the time
I'm the derivative of two crooked spines
These genetic wastelands have created two lives
If it's too much to take in, then just head out
But if you find agreement, then there's my couch
I always keep a spare for times like...

These are the days when my tongue stills and revelations spike
They bleed into the questions of an answerless night
I've tossed and turned now for days on end
Uncomfortable as my dad was in my mother's bed
If you wanted to leave here, why didn't you say so?
And if you wanted to leave here, you just go?
I've been wanting to leave here since eight years old
Twenty-two years later I've still got nowhere to go
New dress for the devil
Paid for by her "god"
With too much disguise on
I don't know who you are
Visits from the "god"
Will be set by the judge
With all your free time
I see none left for us

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