Eight Pounds

About eight pounds, A perfect little baby Eyes as wide as hair is dark Six foot one Nearly a perfect stranger Things get stranger every day The baby speaks It spoke as soon as it could It asks if it'll be like them The stranger leaves Its been a pretty minute Since they were both in it I know Somewhere You're in me, still Deep down I know You never died So I died as a little kid And was replaced by a moody pig F*ck if I know where they went Now I'm stuck here 'till the end I made a promise that I would never change And the me that did has kept it to this day They ran away and left me with the controls And this fucking hole