Junkyard (feat. Angie Aparo) [Live]

I have lived in a junkyard, where the weeds eat up the rain If you get anything there, even out of place You know there's hell to pay And he says, "You're as sick, as you are lovely, and in need of a hand" He tells me, you are never worthy But I was just a child you see... that's my reality He had a sick little girl, dirty and harmed With a breast plate made of metal Drives all day in a rusty Buick, feet don't reach the petals Got a jar of flies, a fathers disguise, where his heart should be, mouth is sown together She screams with those eyes! And he says, "She's as sick, as she is lovely and in need of my hand" He tells her, you are never worthy She was all alone you see... That's her reality... yeah Shoulda been sleepin, shoulda been dreaming, but I wake up to broken glass There'll be one more, empty desk, in my homeroom class I got an old bone pocket knife, tight in my right hand To save my poor mother, from the junk yard man! And I say, "he's as sick as he is lovely, and in need of a hand" And he will know he's not worthy Cause he will die alone you see, that's his reality I'm not sick, I am lovely, and hatred is the curse of man! And I will not feel unworthy Cause I've washed my hands you see, that's my reality