To the fickle let it drop
We have the power to sustain
Like the motor needs the food
To bring real power to our brain
Now we bought it back
So let me make it plain
Since our mother's gone, it always
Seems to rain
And the booze and the friends and the party
Never ends
No excuse for behavior that no one can defend
We reflect in the quiet
Times inside our heads
And get thanks from our children
Tuck tight sweet leap in their beds
Inside their heads

Trickling water dripping down
Slow like some rivers without a sound
Passed many times since you've been on my side
I'm still here but I keep you deep inside

With my two hands across the water
With my two feet in the sea
My fear is for my daughters
But good God will show them me
Take our lambs off to the slaughter
Take their lives so perfectly
Like your bricks are filled with mortar
Cast your wisdom to the brede

Cracks and fall lines
NYC talks to me
Slow like some rivers on our mother's T.V
NYC she speaks to me in tongues
Keeps me to her breast pumps air into my lungs

With my two hands across the water
With my two feet in the sea
My fear is for my daughters
But good God will show them me
Take our lambs off to the slaughter
Take their lives so perfectly
Like your bricks are filled with mortar
Cast your wisdom to the brede