What if I was born out of soft *** cries and blooming flowers?
If I was born from the tears of the people in the falling towers?
If I was made by the gods or nature and trees,
If I was made out of spite to bring my father to his knees.

If I was made out of fluorescent lights and ambient sounds,
If I fell from the sky onto unholy grounds,
What if I ****** it up real bad and they sent me from hell,
And I was born with no memory of it and no secrets to tell.

Or I was just born from my mothers womb,
Boring but probably true,
She took all her love and gave me my youth.
But I don't quite remember so I'll have to make things up,
Of how I was made and born here,
How I became bad luck.