Locked in the attic, mom's not home
Stranger gives me food, doesn't like my tone
I take a bath, she cuts my hair
Short like a boy's, lashes to spare
Eye shadow, primer, blush and powder
She cakes it on and I count the hours
Here in the attic I wither away
Mother o' mother, gone every day
Poisoned baked goods prepared with malice
I eat your treat your good faith I test
Dizzy, head spinning, pain in my chest
So many colors, body dispossessed