First comes the father, the mighty beast
He plays football in my head with a metal ball
bouncing against the walls so hard
Makes me feel like blasting mines & grenades
He's probably a coach, a strict one though
Then goes on jogging around my eyes
Next Comes the mother, a pretty bad cook
As I tell you she burns food every time
Setting fire inside my mind, heating up it all
Then she grabs a hammer with an edge
Throbbing it against every corner of my brain
May be looking for an escape to...