I am a baby with an old soul. my parents are constantly fighting. Im explaining my thoughts and what i wish i would do or say if i was able to speak and control my actions.
I'm just a child, still old enough to know whats right and wrong
I fear thoughts of neglect, unable to mature and be strong
Suppressed emotions being stored, coz of my inaudible diction
Too young and naive to know, if my life is fact or fiction
What's alcohol addiction? Mother always blames my dad for this
And dad always makes a comeback, based on some random drug diss
It's neverending, like my inability to stand up and shout
And put an end to this madness, and ask them what it's about
Is it my fault they always fight? Sometimes I think I just might
Turn out my family light, I just can't seem to wait for night
So I can be at peace, it's bliss with no shouting, it's bliss
Like the days when my folks wouldn't trade blows, but kiss
But those days are long gone, and now I lie in my cot thinking
Will my mother quit taking drugs and my father stop drinking?
I dream of the day, when I can turn around to friends and say
That I love my mum and dad, without having to turn away
In embarassment....pretending that somehow I didn't hear them ask
"How's your family doing, kid, still depending on oxygen masks?"
It fills me up with rage, that I can't talk back to these strangers
Even though deep down I know they're right, and they know the dangers
That a neglected childhood causes, growin up in the wrong crowds
But still they don't help me, and leave my head up in the clouds
Why was I brought into this world? I'd rather go back to the womb
And be at peace once again, not worry about this fated world's doom
I wish I could talk to my parents, tell them exactly how I feel
Let them know how they're hurting me, and that it IS a big deal
They can't ignore it anymore, something just has to be done
Childhood is supposed to be fun, not finding daddy's secret gun
Now I've got it in my hands, and still they havent even seen it
I feel like pulling the trigger, just to see if they really mean it
When they tell me they love me, and it's never been my fault
That mother stole from the vault, and dad got locked up for assault
But it's too late now, my wounds are open and full of salt
Maybe if I start crying, they'll stop fighting and come to a halt
And realise there's more to life than dirty needles and dry gin
That true happiness isnt material, but under the skin
We have a family here, and that's more than most people on Earth
And we do have a worth, we've all been through the miracle of birth
But we've yet to encounter death, and I feel his breath on my neck
As my finger slips and pulls the trigger, and I crash to the deck
The last sound I hear is the painful scream of my helpless mother
And as I rise to the heavens, I pray that once again they'll love each other.
