I need rent, but how am I supposed to get it paid
with a grand total of eight people in town?
I need space to celebrate my first taste of a private place,
but even as I dance for quarters - dollar bills at best -
I hear Mr. Delaney's footsteps, feel his molester's breath
dancing like a hot hand with its fingers to piano keys
from my shoulders to where my skull sits
on my neck!

His hands on my neck -
I hate this hole, this holler, Cacophony
I'm seeing dreams smash, firsthand,
seeing me swinging hammer
His hands on my neck -
I hate this hole, this holler, Cacophony,

but not like the life I left behind!
what I left behind, what I left behind
grows colds, grows overhead,
grows on me, grows close,
so close to the light that I lose the light
and grow cold, no friends,
no room for remorse, just
four walls, hole of black creeping mold,
a fine home to settle in, to
hate what I left behind,
love I left behind, whole worlds away.

I'm home in this cacophony.