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She yells, "If you're homeless sure as hell you'd be drunk |
|
Or high or trying to get there or begging for junk |
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When the people don't want you |
|
They just throw you money for beer" |
|
Her name was November |
|
She went by Autumn or Fall |
|
It was 7 long years since the Autumn when |
|
All of her nightmares grew fingers and |
|
All of her dreams grew a tear |
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She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
|
She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
|
And she's somebody's baby still |
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She screams, "Well if you've never gone it alone |
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Well then go ahead you better throw the first stone |
|
You got one lonely stoner |
|
Waiting to bring to her knees" |
|
She dreams about heaven, remembering hell |
|
As the nightmare she visits and knows all too well |
|
Every now and again, when she's sober, she brushes her teeth |
|
She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
|
She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
|
And she's somebody's baby still |
|
Today was her birthday, strangely enough |
|
When the cops found her body at the foot of a bluff |
|
The anonymous caller this morning tipped off the police |
|
They got her ID from her dental remains |
|
The same fillings intact, the same nicotine stains |
|
The birth and the death were both over |
|
With no one to grieve |
|
She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
|
She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
|
And she's somebody's baby still |
|
She's somebody's baby still |
