Fore score,
At the beginning of my civil war,
A mouse was born in my head
When mom and dad would squeak
A distraction, but now feasting
I cannot feed them forever.

It hurts momma.
It hurts so much my hurting maze, It hurts momma,
It hurts.
Long ago swiss cheese all eaten,
All that's left is holey ‘ol me
Please open thee and cut funny parts free, holey ‘ol me
Sedate me and predate me to the dates of caves
I wanna know
What stalactites stab me,
What makes the pitter patter of grabbies on cold stone,
Momma.
Perhaps I never will see the sky the way I’d like
The way I’d like
The way I’d like

Perhaps all I'll ever see

Is fading sun and mice that gnaw

Mice that Gnaw