Skull - Screaming Females

The beast was born

He slithered out of his hole

I starve my pets

Chained to a linked fence

I am forced to guard the mile

You are not my mother’s child

History is at the door

They tell secrets in their sleep

You wake up and wet the sheets

My good friend is at the door

Boys in big shoes

Make authority look so cool

And you french the ground

On the other side of our town

Relax my bones

Put my nail on the gramophone

Sounds of the week

Are always so bittersweet