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Gaga

de Abbey Scott

10:30 on a Tuesday lights are on but I know that there's no one that I know at home.
Captain's at the table, and he's running dry, looking for the trial that left him wide eyed.

Mother, father.
You live, you die by the white.
Wake up, get up.
Does not your son shine?

Choose your weapon wisely, making sure that's its fine.
Draw the straw so you can walk the line. Chop, chop, cut it up now.
Chop, chop, suck it up now.
Why must you get so high?

Mother, father.
You live, you die by the white.
Wake up, get up.
Does not your son shine?

Give me reason.
Tell me where it all went wrong.
Oh so wrong.
Maybe one day.
Maybe nevermore.

Mother, father.
You live, you die by the white.
Wake up, get up.
Does not your son shine?

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