Track 13 - The Wytches

Track 13 - The Wytches
In her sunshine blouse
She prefers to keep the desperate men out
And they stay far away
And then she'll feel ok
Cause the smile on her face is poison
In her rotary chair
She's spinning too fast as it spits out her hair
And she's well known
For her tendencies grown
As the number on the scales shivers
And we fight like the crows
Shoulders elbows are covered in blows
From the farm girls last perge
Between selling me your love all passing
Well I fell with no pain
But it hurt just the same
Annabelle's in the rain
Reading those dreams
For the number or name
Well she comes across like an animal lost
But her cage is the cleanest around
And her parents hold her down in the night
Before closing her eyes she said everything's fine
When she next arrives with her conscience divine
And a smile on her face artificial
Yes the smile on your face artificial
Well I search through her paths
Running family since birth
And I feel like a one
Bury body in dirt
On my birthday I scream
Every day's a bad dream
Or a story to sell
Stop reading me Annabelle