I feel the juices flowing,
I feel the words coming out in tune,
I feel empty but the vibrato gives it texture,
The lyrics mean something,
The melody means something,
I mean nothing.
I feel a gun against my head,
But I’m bobbing my head in rhythm,
“Fuck off!” I say as my head screams,
As the screeching rips my vocal chords,
The beat doesn’t stop me,
Nor does the trigger,
Because I’m immune to shots.
It’s 5 am and I walk home alone,
To get to my kids,
As I get out of my Cinderella gown,
And into a maid’s.