Poor Baby

Your house is crawling with bugs,

And they are singing my name.

They put holes in your rugs,

Trying to bruise you with shame.

Your windows were bulletproof,

Now the cracks are showing.

Back when you called me a fool,

You swore the glass was solid.

Your clothes are hanging from you,

There is dust in your eyes.

You called my memories untrue,

Now they are burning all your lies.

Your house is crawling with snakes,

And they are shedding their skins.

Think fast, baby, hit the brakes,

Let the whiplash erase your sins.

-Jackie