The consequence of a child
The mild months of worthwhile
No mess you better decide
With grace but not by design
She smokes like guns to the world
We'll catch your moderate slur
And sing your modern love song
But wish you'd died anyway
Now gone I'm gonna get you for that
Get you more like a chance
I'm more of a guns to the wall
The guts that cut through your lungs
Every breath takes a sound
You're deciding on them all