Batter Pours
Life still is mine
Why joke about
Why cry about
The things I don't do
From the bottle pours
Everybody's bath
Won't they carry high
Bucket on the back
They'll miss every trip
They'll miss every place
They'll miss every line I arranged
Why joke about
Why slur of things
I cannot do
Right here in one room
They fall apart
They fall apart
They fall apart
They fall apart
By my hand
By my throne
By my zygomatic bones
Aren't they great
So pronounced
(They didn’t come naturally)
(I had to starve)