There’s a nasty odor in the air
Mold spores in the air turn blue as they’re breathed in
The timeless affect of a dirty generation
There’s a funny feeling
The children play with lead paint peelings
Poisonous metal penetrates their minds
Mine is the same, but doctor prescribed
Lithium runs through my veins
Soothing my nerves, and calming my brain
My eyes still wild, my hair a mess
Loose words, loose tongue, and a bloody wrist
A new queen awaits her coronation
While I patiently await my own consummation
My lover though sits undecided
His passion for me has surely subsided
I sit atop a high set ledge
Talking again to a burning hedge
Some call me crazy, some want me dead
Should I jump? Am I losing my head?
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