Creatures of Habit
Some thing has eaten my family's brain,
And devoured their tasty conscience.
Instead, the gap between reality,
Is now a record of fatality.
Playing the same old track,
While they are running nowhere--
Breaking hearts and little children.
(Who says innocence is not full-breasted,
Especially when she's got hips like a woman?)
Oh God, these tar sins
Spin on and on again.
The record never breaks
Till the next generation is left
With a handful of family misery and debt.
My, how these old faces look older.
Newbie children of romantic bedtime stories
Have lost their precious youth.
The secret is in the cost of this family's loss.
And like a good little legacy of grief,
Family ought rot, for heaven has not forgot.
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