You were born bluer than a butterfly | Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen
Colder than your father's eyes
He never learned to sympathize with anyone
I don't blame you
You were born reaching for your mother's hands
Victim of your father's plans to rule the world
Too afraid to step outside
Paranoid and petrified of what you've heard
But they could say the same 'bout me
I sleep 'bout three hours each night
Means only 21 a week now, now
And I could say the same 'bout you