My mother is breathtaking
My father is bold
But why am I the one who is Faking
That you are saints of gold

For I am an artist of life
My canvas my wrist
My paintbrush a knife
So let me spell it out in red
Why am I the one crying in my bedk

My mother is wise
My father slick
They think I can't see Thier silver tongues of lies
They think it's ok for me to punched and kicked

For I am a prisoner wrongly accused
My insomnia strapping me awake
And my embossed chains from teas of blue

My mother is perfect not crease in her skin
My father is a man yeah you can ask him

For am a soldier tied and old
Stranded on the battlefield of those I use to hold

My mother is drunk
My father a cheat
I was supposed to be there dearest one
But I have been made weak

For I am child who will make mistake
I am a child why can't you see
Just a child  who longs to be free