Unfortunate Sons & Daughters
Come meet the orderlies obligated to an ordinance
Of rounding jagged corners for our family's sake
When things fall out of order and patching wounds is in order
We're ordered to Band-Aid a scuffed knee or bloody face
Repair is important and there's nothing more rewarding than
Reordering the sad gaze on a child's face
But there's so much more to this, from breadwinning cabinets
To breaking bread games while our fists remain quarter-less
A penny saved is a penny's earned in plenty of ways
But not when returned swallowing copper until subordinate bellies ache
We remedy disorder while kept within our corner
Never sipping wine, just gripping vines, and crushing grapes
This mess of obligation soon causes arbitration
Such expectations are distorted, at best
We are man, myth, Unfortunate Son Ornaments
Who hang our crowns, florissant until laid to rest
We don't tear. We don't feel feelings
We don't care 'cause we're not human beings
We don't share. We don't need feelings
We don't share 'cause we're not human beings
We don't care
They are the orderlies obligated to an ordinance
Of reading quarterlies while placing makeup on their face
When things fall out of order, consulting us is their order
Ensuring beds are made before serving up dinner plates
Sure, they are gorgeous, and bearing children's important
But it's blown all out of proportion once the media's engaged
There's so much more to them. Their true image is distorted when
Saying their intelligence is a quarter of men's
This petty game plays Penny's worth. What Penny claims
Is never returned swallowing copper as her pregnant belly aches
She drowns in this disorder. Just stays within her corner
Sipping wine... This design's a crying shame
Excessive consternation soon causes loss of weight and
Such expectations keep her cornered, at best
She is woman, a saint, an Unfortunate Daughter Ornament
Whose name's to remain honored with the utmost respect
They do tear. They have real feelings
They do care 'cause they're human beings
They will share when they feel feelings
But we don't care 'cause we're not human beings
We should share
Of rounding jagged corners for our family's sake
When things fall out of order and patching wounds is in order
We're ordered to Band-Aid a scuffed knee or bloody face
Repair is important and there's nothing more rewarding than
Reordering the sad gaze on a child's face
But there's so much more to this, from breadwinning cabinets
To breaking bread games while our fists remain quarter-less
A penny saved is a penny's earned in plenty of ways
But not when returned swallowing copper until subordinate bellies ache
We remedy disorder while kept within our corner
Never sipping wine, just gripping vines, and crushing grapes
This mess of obligation soon causes arbitration
Such expectations are distorted, at best
We are man, myth, Unfortunate Son Ornaments
Who hang our crowns, florissant until laid to rest
We don't tear. We don't feel feelings
We don't care 'cause we're not human beings
We don't share. We don't need feelings
We don't share 'cause we're not human beings
We don't care
They are the orderlies obligated to an ordinance
Of reading quarterlies while placing makeup on their face
When things fall out of order, consulting us is their order
Ensuring beds are made before serving up dinner plates
Sure, they are gorgeous, and bearing children's important
But it's blown all out of proportion once the media's engaged
There's so much more to them. Their true image is distorted when
Saying their intelligence is a quarter of men's
This petty game plays Penny's worth. What Penny claims
Is never returned swallowing copper as her pregnant belly aches
She drowns in this disorder. Just stays within her corner
Sipping wine... This design's a crying shame
Excessive consternation soon causes loss of weight and
Such expectations keep her cornered, at best
She is woman, a saint, an Unfortunate Daughter Ornament
Whose name's to remain honored with the utmost respect
They do tear. They have real feelings
They do care 'cause they're human beings
They will share when they feel feelings
But we don't care 'cause we're not human beings
We should share
Credits
Writer(s): Timothy Stiles
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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