Losing our heads.

Father I haven't seen a thing you said.
"Son, you see what you want."
I feel that the blind man can see more than I can.
What do I want to see?

I can't understand a thing you wrote.
"So why do you keep coming over?"
Its my passion,
and you'll always come second.
Do you ever think twice?

I can't say its all the same.
It just feels that way.

I know we're not the same.
It feels like that's ok.

Mother, who can I blame
for this dirty love I ravenously claimed?
The moon is looking down on me
with opinions of the sun.
Do you really believe everything you see?

Words in red are lost in beds
where children lose their little heads.
We punished each other and blamed our mothers.
I know now we all deserve death.

Father who can I save
from this dirty love I've made.
In my image,
a nameless hipster,
soulless b*****d self-enslaved.

No matter what else I say
its a useless phrase.
I feel its all ok.