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Idlehands
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Mid-Brain Reward System
The lunar marquee is moving, but will it change the fate of a woman?
Now the headline talks of sex, and rage, and pain.
I'll clap with the gun in my hand.
I'll laugh while I dress as a dead man.
No one but the deaf to blame, while they write to you, queen of records.
Tape me, lay me, kill me, then bill me.
Leave me petty daughter, born dishonored.
Leave me petty daughter.
Thank your father.
C-L-D, That inner Sheba, asleep.
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Worship while burning for all to see.
Bricks will be thrown until this scheme has been abruptly exposed.
The man without regret tells us to forget, but I know.
I don't believe you.
Make your decision, please.
Leave me petty daughter, born dishonored.
Leave me petty daughter.
Thank your father.
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