What I need is to meet my mother's dreams and wishes.
Forget my brother's drunken binges...
The broken dishes...
The empty cupboards in our kitchen...
But this is just my sick twisted Christmas wish list.

No More second hand store bought socks mom got us...
No More bullies punking me out in the school parking lot...
No More watching mom grab torn bags at the corner bus stop...
And No More court orders or project blocks...
No more busted open dead-bolt locks...
No More sounds of a cocked shotgun at 9 o'clock.

No more burnt out bulbs up inside my fridge...
No more dirty sinks from where I used to drink...
No more rock bottom, bill piling bullshit...

But this is just my sick twisted Christmas wish list.

"Just kidding! I'm not a poet...I'm a fuckin' gangsta rapper! BEEATCH!"-Charlie
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