Please don’t feed the elephant in the room
It chews on bloody beer bottles and reminiscent thoughts
And spits them with a cunning smile
Breaking stitches on the soles of precious angels
And the locked-up nightmares in the den of the Lion
But the lion sleeps peacefully
He dreams upon a lengthy bed of lace
Next to Molly and Sister Mary
Oh, broken angels
But the ladies know
It’s time for them to say goodbye
It’s time for that fucking elephant to finally die
Molly and Mary walk hand in hand
With every ounce of strength that be
Twist and pull each ivory thorn
With all their
strength and might
And let their fury free
Into the weeping chest of the filthy elephant
Piercing like the purest swords
And the lovely ladies fade away to ash
And the lion dies in vertigo
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