Maybe I`m a baby with a mouth to feed
Maybe I`m a cancer waiting to eat
Maybe I`m a razor on a wrist to bleed
Maybe only water or a bucket of kerosene
It`s alright
We are landing this ship soon
It`s alright
No more trips around the moon
Momma does the dishes in her wedding ring
Daddy never wishes now for anything
Sister on the corner like a boy`s wet dream
All little bit of hell in a bucket of velveteen
