Said my mother through lips that were cracked with love and toil
Before she added, "the warmest of blankets is six feet of soil"
She had a perfume called Pride that smelled a lot more like Shame
When she walked into the room I was sleeping, heard her curse my father's name;
It was our situation, our position, our gender to blame
It was the lonely grey of my father's eyes staring back in the mirror's frame
"Mother, I'm shaking while I write because tonight I'll stay awake and breathe away my fright
There's a letter waiting for me that I have yet to read because I know it won't be you
And you're the only one I need, I'm tired and I'm cold and I want to go to bed
But there's non one here to tuck me in, so the shotgun will instead"
Lyrics submitted by guitarhero
"She Who Mars the Skin of Gods" as written by Lucas Hoskin Arif Mirabodlbaghi
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
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