I fucking loved you, but never said a word to make it known
I fucking loathed you, but never said the words as hard to harmI'm so tired of sourcing men to quoteMy God doesn't quiver, and nor should he do
From threats below the Tropic Of Cancer
And nor should he doI was born a fucking idiot, but no one told me til I die o' it
My God doesn't quiver from threats below the Tropic Of Cancer
Well I was born who I was, no doctored manuscript could say that I'm not
But I'll take my own word for it and wear the sign, "Here be a cunt"I sat beneath portraits and drew symbols of brotherhoods on my arm
I used only pencil, because nothing in my life can ever last
I watched my mother garden, and thought of all the times I made her cry
I watched my sister watch me, we both agreed kids like us never lastI crawl under the stairs, I crawl under the fernDecaying leaves, a garden tool
She drags her fingers across the earth
I can hear my mother weep
In other soil in another worldShe's getting drunk and starting fights
With famous pricks who run the world
I can hear my sister weep
In another house in another roomThese fingers move faster
These lungs grow louder
I can hear my body weep
"Spare the drama, now go to sleep"My father looks upon his house
and into ferns and tells his son
"You've made your women weep
So leave the house or leave your life"I dream, I dream of England
Oh foreign fern, the world in bloomI dream, I dream of England
Oh rotting wood, my boat to sailI never thought of what I did
I fucking love what's wrong with me
No prayer or wine could twist my arm
To say I was wrong about my lifeI'd never harm a living soul
If I was told they didn't deserve it
Decaying leaves to hide my corpse
I don't want his hands to fucking touch meI hid in the local fern, but no one ever knewI, made my God quiver, through social dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social dissonance and forced dementia
I dream, I dream of England
Oh foreign fern, the world in bloomI dream, I dream of England
Oh rotting wood, my boat to sailI never thought of what I did
I fucking love what's wrong with me
No prayer or wine could twist my arm
To say I was wrong about my lifeI'd never harm a living soul
If I was told they didn't deserve it
Decaying leaves to hide my corpse
I don't want his hands to fucking touch meI hid in the local fern, but no one ever knewI, made my God quiver, through social dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social dissonance and planned dementia
I, made myself quiver, through social dissonance and forced