Baby flew out of the windshield and found a safe haven on the ground below.
(Make yourself at home in the Garden of Eden
where your hopes and dreams refuse to grow).
But his spine is as bent as a car crash in a city
and baby doesn't really care for where he could go.

Drink down the pills in the passenger seat.
Less poisonous gold inside the vile
to let the stomach acid flow.
Baby takes a bruise and a beating
but what it means, he'll never want to know.

Come on, this is reality,
I don't wanna be a figment of your imagination.
you say you asked for some sympathy and just got a symphony
playing songs of your sorrows.
What could be better than everybody knowing you're about to break down?

Baby's got a mask and a gun and he's bound to have fun
with no reassuring outcome.
Nobody's heart is on his side
though I won't admit mine has a role to play.
But when homicide looks like the answer,
will someone come to cure the cancer
before his life is completed in a different way?

(I took the time to write this for you
but I don't think it'll be enough.
I don't want to say that you're doomed to suffer,
but your ideal smile hides behind the rust.
keep frowning if that's how you want it to be)

But baby's feeling pessimistic 'cause he refuses to see the light,
though it's imaginary,
it can be there if he wanted it to be.