the bird
is in the head
the religion
is in the taste
the beauty
in the ear
the hope in the eye
love is a lie and
sex is an ich
we all look
for the tits
mama's pots
mama is home
home is mama
you like her
you hate her
the tits you find
make your home
it makes you
it breaks you
don't blame your mama
don't blame yourself
don't blame
you're the same
it is bigger then you
it's like the river
the water
that brings you
to the sea
not finished
yet
