Mommy used to sing me a lullaby,
something to help stop my cry.
The lullaby she sang wasn't right,
and I found that out this night.

Her motherly lullaby went something like this-

...

Hush little baby
don't you cry,
momma's gonna sing
you a lullaby.

And if that lullaby won't work,
momma's gonna buy you a Mockingbird.

And if that Mockingbird won't sing,
momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring won't shine,
momma's gonna buy you a butterfly.

Pretty butterfly,
pretty butterfly,

hush little baby, don't you cry,
momma's gonna sing you a lullaby.

...

But that's not what mommy
should have said,
not as brother's holding
a gun to my head.

The real lullaby should have gone something like this-

...

Hush little baby,
don't you cry.
Our lives will be better
once you die.

I'll one day forget your name,
as brother turns killing you into a game.

When you grow up, you'll become someone I hate,
and brother killing you will become your fate.

From the minute you were born you were destined to die,
hush little baby, don't you cry.

Pretty blood so red,
pretty blood so red,
hush little baby, don't you cry,
our lives will be better once you're dead.