There's a black cross hangin' over his bed,

That he never sleeps in he lives instead,

In the next room where he fills his head with the music,

In this room there sits two black skulls with red eyes,

That glare through the dark and match the size,

Of the pill that he takes to calm the rise of his actions,

He smiles so proud of the music so loud,

And the colored light that forms the cloud,

Of his thoughts that are said out loud without question,

And by his side sits his bride,

All dressed in black with a sullen pride,

Speaks only when she's called to ride his emotions,

Yeah His daddy's in jail, his mamma has failed,

At the game of love while he has derailed,

Burned by the heat that fills his sails for a new shore,

Yeah his daddy's in jail, His mamma has failed,

At the game of love while he has derailed,

Burned by the heat that fills his sails for a new shore.

By
Steve Pollack