Honeysuckle in the breeze
Won’t you be my mother, please?
Your skin is aged, your eyes are young
In rage, you have the sharpest tongue
Serpent crawling through the dirt
Won’t you teach me how to work?
Deception is your prodigy
Memory is your child, not me
Wind traipsing through the sky
Won’t you love me when I’m high?
I try my best to be you, but
I don’t have my mother’s luck