They say for a girl, sentiment wins over intelligence,
They say God gave her a heart, that'll be her guidance.

A man with yellow teeth, growling words out of a cigarette,
His lighter burns with each of his stares, he chuckles, "Oh why's the lady upset?"

He shows his son the world where only those devoid of emotion make it home,
His daughters are allergic to sunlight, he's building his son out of stone.

The fight has one face, the companions of the moon scarred by the night,
A man hides his dirt under a black suit but the lady shall wear white.

Because when she'll look in the mirror she'll see her mother,
And her mother will see her grandmother, hands wrinkled from serving her brother.

He said, "As your father I love you, but as a man, I'm meant to push the wheel,
Ask him to patch the holes of his socks, and what he'd like for the next meal."

Because sentiment wins over intelligence, isn't that how it works?
Make an extravaganza about respect, but only her heart it concerns.

And as one last word of wisdom, her mother taught her of vulnerability,
And warned her about how minds work, how they become a liability.

A table with shiny mahogany wood, that's where she sits,
She's having this conversation with time as it passes in seconds and splits.

And her name became an insult, one that dignity frowns upon,
Her future a ghoul, it's mere thought something she's running from.

It was amazing how they decided to diverge races of humanity,
Creatures shall live as predators and preys for eternities.