When has food become a trap?
A luring, hateful sign?
If I take it’s once gentle hand
And for a moment,
Make it mine,
It will call the hawks
And scream aloud
It’s taunting, horrid shrine.
They’ll peck and beat,
Whip ‘til I bleed,
Laughing as they scrape my spine.

When has reading become a trap?
A tempting, haunting sign?
I call for its warmth
To learn for once
And teach what’s left of my mind.
It will call the hawks and scream aloud
Its taunting, horrid shrine.
They’ll peck and beat,
Whip ‘til I bleed,
Laughing as they scrape my spine.

When has love become a trap?
A disturbing, empty sign?
It comes for once
Then leaves like that
Burying this heart of mine.
If I run for my life,
They’ll peck and beat,
Whip ‘til I bleed,
Laughing as they scrape my spine.

Until I eat,
Until I read,
Until my heart’s refined,
They’ll watch and stare
Torture and scare,
Whipping my back in lines.
I can’t fight now,
There’s no thought on how,
I did what I could in my time.
So forever I wait
To see heaven’s gate
To ease and fade my mind.
But for now they shall beat,
Strike ‘til I endlessly bleed,
And hear those awful calls of
Laughing,
Laughing,
Laughing,
In my cold, darkened sleep.