They whisper like it's wrong
But tell me it's all right
That faeries live inside their bottles
Growing from the bottom up
And branching up into their lips
Like Good Folk like to do

Their arms are vines with leafing fingers
Reaching up beyond your throats
Through your holes and down your noses
Trying to crawl out from your chests
They slip inside and slide between your cheeks
Thrashing up against your fat
Winding up and down your spines
Overriding your minds with their fay lies
But you claim to like it

Tipping slightly downwards towards my face
Eyes glazed over and graceless
Grabbing at your infidelity to a single drink
Let's downpour more on your soul
Sticky alcohol mumblings stumbling across your collar
Breaking open your red and swollen lips in
I didn't know Jesus Christ was a name you called on often
But f can only end in ucking
Like sh can only end in it
Pretty beads of your vocabulary necklace
Limited to all the things you wouldn't say around children
Sobered up and locked in a office
Blank American faces making their supposed contribution to society

But you're dripping and melting
Slipping and splitting between my fingers
The fun has only begun but already you're ringing
Vibrations of an empty shell
I tap against your exterior and pretty music sings
But it's slightly off key like it's not meant to be there
And you swear you're the same only better
With a new skeleton stretched underneath your fa├žade
Laced in liberalism and unoriginality
I want to smile but I want to scream
You're just that scary

Hold my brother's hand
And hand him a drink
A sip to swish between his teeth
Like all young children should
Ten years old is ripe and fresh
To bite the fruit off an illicit tree
Even for you
Even for me

My mother's a prude
But not really
She's got her own sins tucked between her sheets
I've got my own lies licking at my knees
But we try to shine
A few stray rays of sunlight between the cracks in this world
The drunken chasms swallowing us like little white pills and overflowing
We're snowing but it's not overdosing
They're wasted but children are still roaming
Tumbling down stairs and over the flames
I hate this

But blame is just a game that doesn't matter anymore
And change is like a center never found