Oh flowers in the dining room at dusk
Its dinner time
And when mamma strikes the gong, its time to have
Bertha*s nice lamb with mint sauce
Oh she*s put a lamb to slaughter
Lamb to slaughter
Claire, she paints her nails
Whines and giggles on cue
She*s the familiar note in your heart
oh daddy, please don*t go!
she*s a yes person growing up in a no environment
and when she*s been tucked in,
kissed by mamma, daddy, bertha.
She slips out of her pink, teddy bear pajamas
And into hardly anything at all
It was a mistake to let her have the bedroom on the first floor.
The window used to squeak, but a bita butter did the trick jus’ fine
Shes a trailer trash girl living in suburbia
Shes a city whore living in suburbia
Shes a night prowler choking on the homophobic, sexist
PURIFIED
Air of suburbia
The bottom of her butt cheeks are visible
And wearing those boots, her legs look a mile long
Is that a push up?? Or implants?? Either way, those have GOT to be fake.
She*ll fuck the first one who so much as breathes the word “heroin”
Oh, wilted flowers in the dining room at dawn
Little winkins is up, my, how flattering those pjs are!
Oh what a beautiful little lamb daughter I have!
Have you finished that darling book, Ivanhoe, dear?
No mother, im still working on Little Women
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