Sound asleep till right until day
Frustrated desire turns you away
And turns you insane
Over and over

You get to a point
To make it disappear
And you're always believing
And believing in fear
Over and over
And over and over
And over and over

Marilyn Moore

It's always a headache the size of a tour truck
She's full of disorders, depends what you're used to
She's talking of tranches of truncheons in battle

Of bruises from bottles that never get better
Bad baby bitching she screams at the door
Hammer in hand and her head to the floor
Marilyn Moore