Of what's written underneath
From the spawn of a mother's crack trip
She birthed as a world disease
If there was a resurrection
And back here he did come
The spawn of her kind
Will be left behind
For being so God Damned Dumb
In the search for love
By the whole of the entire fold
The value of emotions
Was never supposed to taught
As a commodity sold
What's the going price
On a bushel basket full of hate
And how much can your heart hold
If it's always in a trading state
