700>100

Don't remember a thing

Left ear a permanent ring

You were fortunate born

From a ****-hole up north

Caught in a crowd

With people thinking allowed

Your little heart is torn

From the inside out

I was crawling back home down on my knees

While you were sleeping with heart-fever disease

I'm hearing voices

Mixed up messages

Of 700 more than 100

Another kick in the ribs

The one you'll never forget

But what were you hoping for

Lying down on the floor

Making amends

Instead of washing your hands

I'll say it in reverse so you understand

I was crawling back home down on my knees

While you were sleeping with heart-fever disease

I'm hearing voices

Mixed up messages

Of 700 more than 100

I'm hearing voices

Mixed up messages

Of 700 more than 100