Jana Hunter The New Sane Scramble
This halo is a joke
a little hoax for parting ghosts
My momma told me so
She's dead; she ought to know
And if you see me
walking down your favorite street
I'm only going to see
little babies trying to breathe
This cradle is a tomb
an everlasting sense of doom
My momma's in her room
She's dead; she died too soon
And if you see me
crawling out of your favorite tree
I'm hanging so delicately
There's no one that can save me
