Butterflies of Fear

Being a child of addiction, Not much you can do, Cant anger the beast, Don't want the object they hit to be you Constant stir in my stomach, Butterflies of fear cry, Gotta turn up the music, Otherwise my spirit might die Friends not home, In my room alone, Look in the backyard, Tried to grow grass, disaster prone Turn on the black and white tube, Married with Children hears my blues, Cracks me up, Way better than watching the news It's in the small things I find comfort, Outside bedroom walls are chaos, I walk out there always in silence, Don't want to upset the big boss. Its easy to lie when your well being is at stake, Keeping them happy makes your fake, Soon your feelings mirror gray rainbows, Different colors for every mood, Emotions numb, colors no longer glow.