The Real Trains

The cutting glass flying You know mom makes me watch Her back is full of scars, Children of halfs, men in black and white We would kill ourselves in november and our flowers would have grown Not much men in our house Small green house We were Alex and Max in our little home Dairy, alex is home alone, should have known My child is all alone, i hope max doesnt touch her when im gone When im gone i hope my name is still known We used to wear dresses and laugh about our mother skirts The little white stains on the money and the blood in the bathroom