LYRIC FOR SALE

By Lisa Leonard

Bury her Ma
A child bride, mother and widow , a life filled with dispair and remorse
Sadly with memory intact, she died without folly or force
She smelled like a carcus with pink rotting flesh
All of us surrounding her, laughing, as she took her last breath
What a relief for her chicks whom she outwardly loathed
But who she hated most was her nasty, older bethrothed
Bury her ma with her secrets untold
Bury her ma with her cross made of gold
Bury her ma so the next girls don't know
That she ruined your life with the rod real slow

Her apartment trash was willed to that insidious man-made place
Where she was married prior in hideous, inferior, war-coupon lace
A mocked priest and his chilldren discovered the spoil
He quickly remembered that she only was honest and loyal
Wafer and wine visitation was his scheme to her heart
Only he could comfort her with the lies which kept us apart
Bury her ma with her secrets untold
Bury her ma with her cross made of gold
Bury her ma so the next girls don't know
That she ruined your life with the rod real slow

A born believer in the divine tales and power and of saints
She prayed all day to decrepit statues with aged, peeling paint
But I was her cunning favorite within a large, faithful brood
I was the one who was careless, wicked, and lewd

Never laid with a women but I am sure she was inclined
Can you imagine if she left that damaged leaky faucet behind
Instead she chose suffering through mating and birthing in bed
I know because I was the only person who heard the last thing she said
When you are young, strong and brave deaden the bait of being a hen
Don't spend your life entertaining the facades of useless men
Bury her ma so we can build a future again