from the bottom of my empty heart

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boo-hoo, little boy,

your hair is muddy and streaked with blood.

cut your skin and bruise your cheeks

that head of yours is empty anyway.

back and forth and back and forth

backpack straps as purple as your knees

from your only friend or climbing trees?

boo-hoo, little boy, respect your elders

look at the light and swing on the bar

nobody can stop you now, little boy

go on your thirsty rampage and let them stare

would it really matter if your soul was rotten?

no one would even care.

six feet under the blinding bloom

but your eyes unseeing and your nose green

your games are old and your tricks long known

put away the pencil, no one would even see

boo-hoo, little boy, so they stop and stare

jacket's a little heavy, fall looming in the air

quick hand, loud voice, shattering glare

perfume to strong in these streets

lie, lie, all you ever do is lie,

your soul's a raisin, black and wrinkled,

so don't expect your mind to make you feel kind.

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