The Jonbenét - Eleventh Century Folklore

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Arched back and a couple of slit wrists

How often can you tell me that I can't love you

Just maybe I can

Just maybe I can



Somehow I'll break those arms

And someday I'll break those arms

Watching Jesus Christ

Emerge in the form of a firearm



I sit back and relax

I sit back and relax

My wife of forty years



I raped her



He began that day like any other

Holding hands with savory little beauties

Let them know that you love them

And tell them all you want is to be cared for



That's all you want

Is to be cared for

That's all you want

Is to be cared for

Is to be cared for



Her eyes were calm

And her hands were cold

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