Stripes

[Cage] Beer cans and cigarette butts cover the floor day Half gone, he sleeps scared pregnant teen in the doorway Watching him sleep clutchin' her belly, little feet kick To send the teen back to the toilet, spent her last week sick When little Billy feed her ground up Jesus powder Would've beat her louder if it would've pushed the fetus out of her Father in the making, crooked M.P. forsaken The military cop that sells H to bring his cake in She shaking, praying her labor kicks in before The doors kicked in for them brown bricks on the floor I mean, she could tell you exactly how the gutter taste Father to her kid in custody right when her water breaks Snitched on his compadres for a few more runs And the irony in giving a stuffed rat to his newborn son Dishonorably discharged, no jail time in court Told to pack his family up and go the fuck back to New York [Hook] Fuck Bill Murray, not the actor, the deadbeat dad that smacked her Then left her with rats after he snapped her The bastard inventorthat bent her backwards in winter With her back against the wall, she can hear death singing in her With her back against the wall, she still head death singing in her [Cage] She's scared to leave him, convinced somehow she really needs him Back in New York her prison of pain and Billy's freedom Holdin' her baby, he'd say crazy shit to break her When she fell asleep, he'd escape her wit's end and wouldn't wake her He'd sneak out to wallow in it role model to shit That put his Christian scientist father in debt Gave him his first stroke, he refused his medication Cause it went against his religion, he'd rather his lord take him Through stroke number two and start withering his flesh Then lay the emaciated world war two veteran to rest Left his family debt turmoil and wreckage And his grandson to scatter his ash over the U.S. Intrepid Then little Billy plummets to his knees, still numb from it Held his kid by the arm with a shotgun to his stomach When threats to destroy what he created get tucked away When he looks in his son's face to see he might grow up to say [Hook] [Cage] Needle through the skin again, inject the rust and cinnamon Pull off the tourniquet, load up the shotgun and sentence him He knows that there's a bed in hell waitin for him But he ain't been sane since he started huffin chloroform With his shit decorum, he lets off shots, the neighbors say shooters Into the phone to Middletown police and state troopers While every family member on the premises runs from death Greeted by dozens of officers with guns and vests His suicide by cop sweater on get low Is told to the crowd watching him shoot thru the window His son clutched in his mother's arms, unaware it's the end They bring him out in handcuffs but never to be seen again [Hook]