You wrote all those blood songs but you don’t even know what they meannWhy did you write those long songs when you don’t even care what they mean?nnCuz it just pays the billsnThat’s fine cuz we’re young stillnnThese kids are like a long song that’s out of tune on purposenDestroying their creationsnEmbracing all the worthlessn(She just plunks away these days/He paints bad on purpose)nIt’s like a photograph disguising its intentionsnIt’s real so something’s happeningnBut what? They cannot mentionnnThey’d say all their blood songs were written in the wombnBut no, they follow the tune of all misguided exclamationsnDarkening the color of their cloudy intuitionsnnWhat use is you blood song when your blood is birthed fromnAncient descendents who would rather kill all those exhibiting a weaker willnn