miracle at st. anna - shot at the tiger lyrics
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i am a product of genetic fusion
a shriek in a neighborhood of whispers
demented convulsions
demented convulsions
all these shapes, all these colours and methods
bring nostalgia to a home that lacks childhood
i’ve stained my black socks
on this black tarped trampoline
as i jumped through adolescence
held at gunpoint by magnetic darts and board games
hiding from the gentle games of children
would you proudly walk me down the aisle?
would you proudly call me your son?
call me your son?
proudly walk me down the aisle?
proudly call me your son?
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