Oh poor boy
His mind in a wreck
Believes that this life of his
Poses as morally correct

Oh poor boy
As every day he knows
That his father will be waiting
With the needles and a rose

Oh poor boy
Who's cuticles shall bleed
Clutching his fists so tights
Begging on his knees

Oh poor boy
You were born so pure
Tainted by this fool
Your father and your fear

Oh poor boy
So submissive and left empty
You follow his every order
Unable to think freely

Oh poor boy
Those needles pierce your skin
Where is was so soft and clean
Is now scarred on every limb

Oh poor boy
You watch the trickle of your blood
Streaming along beside you
Mixing with the earthly mud

Oh poor boy...
He hands you the rose
Imperfect thorns, petals stained red
As he says "this is the way life goes"