4/21/2008 - Grind the Babies.

Like a bullet set on it's trajectory,

I'm off inflicting damage.

Some kind of mental mastectomy,

I'm no longer a woman.

I've cut parts off of me,

just to fit some picture.

This self imposed image super-imposed,

designed from the ground up.

It's a machine, grind the babies down,

pass the money round.

It's one cold step you take against your fellow man.

You live up to the hype, or you die in the grind.