Fucktown
Fucktown, the poetry is dried up there…
Grounded sounds of a heart break pound through collective "I don't cares".
Nothing is rare as there is no risk to bear way off in Fucktown.
The honesty is waiting, nurtured underneath a cow's shit.... waiting, for the curious finger tips of any kid way off in fuck town...
Anyone in prison would agree, in order to escape you have to crawl through it, without the path.
When you have the drug an addict wants... Do you flaunt it? Do you conceal it? If you're a dealer.. do you go against your comfort to do the right thing to free them from the cycle thing, the wrong thing that feeds you right thing, is it ever the right thing to go against nature, or is it denial.. to not nurture nature's needs?
The disease pays no please way off in Fucktown.
So, here I find myself talking to this girl from Fucktown.
She knows she's from there, but she's not the type to say "born and raised".
She looks like she knows how to escape,
She uses her body the way they tell her to...
Maybe even a bit for herself.
In fucktown, she's top shelf.
In fucktown, she wears the crown,
She wears a gown made of tattered jeans and cheap high heals.
It hurts, the real... the domestic abuse, when ego calls the police and like every emotion,
Here they come screaming with their sirens on beating up the peace and calm.
Its the reaction to dialing 9-1-1.
Hang up the phone, take care of it yourself.
That ego, it’s not just a Fucktown thing.. it’s an every town thing.
It’s an every-thing-thing.
To leave fucktown with out walking through shit...
Just kneel down and take off the crown.
Grounded sounds of a heart break pound through collective "I don't cares".
Nothing is rare as there is no risk to bear way off in Fucktown.
The honesty is waiting, nurtured underneath a cow's shit.... waiting, for the curious finger tips of any kid way off in fuck town...
Anyone in prison would agree, in order to escape you have to crawl through it, without the path.
When you have the drug an addict wants... Do you flaunt it? Do you conceal it? If you're a dealer.. do you go against your comfort to do the right thing to free them from the cycle thing, the wrong thing that feeds you right thing, is it ever the right thing to go against nature, or is it denial.. to not nurture nature's needs?
The disease pays no please way off in Fucktown.
So, here I find myself talking to this girl from Fucktown.
She knows she's from there, but she's not the type to say "born and raised".
She looks like she knows how to escape,
She uses her body the way they tell her to...
Maybe even a bit for herself.
In fucktown, she's top shelf.
In fucktown, she wears the crown,
She wears a gown made of tattered jeans and cheap high heals.
It hurts, the real... the domestic abuse, when ego calls the police and like every emotion,
Here they come screaming with their sirens on beating up the peace and calm.
Its the reaction to dialing 9-1-1.
Hang up the phone, take care of it yourself.
That ego, it’s not just a Fucktown thing.. it’s an every town thing.
It’s an every-thing-thing.
To leave fucktown with out walking through shit...
Just kneel down and take off the crown.
