Butterfly in a Tornado...
By: Born To Kill & Jonathon
America’s blight, economy’s tight...
Wallets are empty...nothing seems right.
Except the urge to fight, that fits right in...
And within it breeds division like the wall did in Berlin.
Splitting man and wife, cuz insults blast like sneezes...
S’odd how heated breath sharp as a knife,
........................Doesn’t cut my heart but freeze it.
Leaving me cold inside, trembling on the out...
When storms collide in your own fuckin house.
That’s supposed to be safe, a haven of love...
But instead is replaced with death from above.
Hail that pounds; brings you down to the ground...
Cuz the shape of hate, now wears your wife’s nightgown.
Screams of “Fuck you!” and “Fuck you too!”...
“We wouldn’t be in this if it wasn’t for you!”
“You spend too much!” “No, you fuckin do!”
“You’re so goddamn selfish, I wish we were through!”
In this storm I cannot thrive, though I swear I’ve done my best...
But the strength of this F5, s’like Brock Lesnar’s my guest.
Blowing away emotions, precious memories are scattered...
Downing lines that power devotion, like it never really mattered.
And in the middle of this...in the middle of this shit...
A tiny butterfly repeats a pleading little wish.
“Please stop fighting, I love you Mom and Dad...
I’m in my bedroom hiding from the only family I have.
My little heart hurts; not enough tissue for my tears...
The words you two blurt bring life to my worst fears.
Mommy leaving Daddy, or Daddy leaving Mommy...
I know it’s all my fault...and the guilt weighs so heavy upon me.”
.
.
.
.
No fuel in gas tanks because there's no change in pockets;
Stock markets dropping so fast you can't even watch it.
Medicare is hardly there; removed by our government,
We're still in a cold war, the O-Zone's just tryna cover it.
But the coldness of our lives still chills the oldest -
Expected to carry a burden out but too weak to hold it...
Too weak to speak out - or reach out for what's right,
Blinded by our economy, & bein' rich isn't in sight.
Health is not worth the fight, black eyes bruise me -
Its worse down here but too dark for a news scene.
When I learned to ignore, then things became more -
sickness sticks to this aged body until it's claimed sore.
Throw me up because I'm down - mentally I've risen;
cancerous cells lock down my aging body like a prison.
Hospital bills seal the deal on my future -
I won't be able to pay for this, my kids need a suture.
The doctor claims I won't make it another week -
& only two days later my life monitor rapidly peaks.
And in the middle of this...in the middle of this shit...
A tiny butterfly repeats a pleading little wish.
"Please Daddy make it stop - the line is frightening
They tell me your dying, just take some life from me!
My little heart hurts; this is scaring me Dad
I need God or this doctor to save the only thing I have.
I'm sorry I was bad, wait - why is the beeping stopping?
I know it’s all my fault...and the guilt weighs so heavy upon me."