Pietá Pt. 1

I don't need a speed bump I'm going to dinner To shit where I want to Throw food under the table Wore a hat to the beach Cause I didn't want my face read Then I slept where the bottles Are kept in the basement A hex-rack with all of my Children in fits there To wrap up in cotton To retrieve in the morning And soot-cakes replacing The red-riddled brick stair You're me in the cellar The air's black with water And facelifts My hands are pruny