Mama lives in a home plastered in white
As she goes to sleep in her bed
They strap her in real tight
She counts to numbers
One through five on repeat
Mama has scars from her hips to her feet
They call it 'fourth floor'
Dad calls her insane
I heard that the pills
Messed with Mama's brain
Only when it's silent
Do I hear her sad cries
Missing the old days
Where I bounce on her thighs
Mama brushed my hair back
In moments being sober
I miss the old Mama
When life wasn't over
Now Mama spits
Everytime that she speaks
At least in the crazy home
Mama's eyes do not leak
