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She combs her hair when she gets excused 
The deal she wants always ends up screwed. 
Paints her nails on the bathroom scales 
Gargles her breath
Each of these old light leaves is dirt,
Barely held together by
Tiny bone hands that used to be alive

Holding hands
Loose gripped
At the deja vu
And pulled it, it snapped right off in my hand
What the fuck is happening? I don't understand
My hair is falling out, my body's sore
I threw up
through
Nestled by the free green pea soup special
One for the mutts that walk three feet in front of their gut
Sipping mush out of of cups
And still
her by her blood soaked hair. 
And tell her shits gonna be allright on my end. 

I'm glad it happened this way, back in my daughters life again.
a bundle
Bitches got weaves on, hair long like Rapunzle
I crumble, a phone number, but I stills bury bozack
Rollin in dough like Pillsbury
I don't carry
her by her blood soaked hair. 
And tell her shits gonna be allright on my end. 

I'm glad it happened this way, back in my daughters life again.