Like a bullet set on it's trajectory,
I'm off inflicting damage.
Some kind of mental mastectomy,
I'm no longer a woman.
I've cut parts off of me,
just to fit some picture.
This self imposed image super-imposed,
designed from the ground up.
It's a machine, grind the babies down,
pass the money round.
It's one cold step you take against your fellow man.
You live up to the hype, or you die in the grind.
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 12:17 PM UTC
Like a bullet set on it's trajectory,
I'm off inflicting damage.
Some kind of mental mastectomy,
I'm no longer a woman.
I've cut parts off of me,
just to fit some picture.
This self imposed image super-imposed,
designed from the ground up.
It's a machine, grind the babies down,
pass the money round.
It's one cold step you take against your fellow man.
You live up to the hype, or you die in the grind.
(c) KC Hoye 2010 cargohold.blogspot.com