Your Titles are Boring

"My life... my life is scattered" says the female wounded soldier

"And how does that make you feel?" the doctor asks.

How does it feel? HOW DOES IT FEEL?
pickles, dimes,
letters, rhymes,
my scramble eggs,
your peg legs.

canada cures cancer,
but not my disease,
i'm a shot lancer,
i beg you please.

my momma doesn't know what's wrong with me
life is like pictures of photography
missing connections
of formal definitions
Iraq blew me
you america, you fucking screwed me!

I ain't no eminem
im purely feminine
my head is shaved
for the frontline i craved
i pretended to be a man
for this is where i stand

"where am i?
GET ME OUT OF HERE!" she screams struggling to release from her straightjacket

"quick, bring the P.R.N.!" the doctor screams

As she tries to escape and struggles, but the penetration of the needles paralyzes her body.
She is carried off the stage in her straightjacket

She re-enters center stage in a big blast

Red halls,
bubble walls,
what is this place
am i really in a pyschiatric ward?
what a dis...ooooo but-ter-fly
oh miss butterfly,
tell my baby in the skies i didn't know.
I didn't know he was in my belly or I would of had them shot my heart.
Now, it's broken forever.