I watch my Mother slowly fade day by day.
She grows weaker
I really needed her in my life
She's been killing her self for the love of the rock,
she can't stop or is it that she just won't stop?
She sleeps all day and roams all night
and she always wants to fight.
I sit and wonder how she fell in love with drugs
it bugs me to see her dying before my face,
I get an ill feeling.
But yet and still I'm willing
to keep going on as if nothing is wrong,
but it's tearing me apart
I don't think she has a heart
and if she does it's black as night
and cold as ice, she could make someone a good wife.
So I keep my eyes open and my black dress clean,
because death is here just not seen