Four hundred thousand children are in line 
I don’t want a kid with bad genetics
no one can hear you, world roaring about

cups, shoes, they tape confrontation over
my lips, you hear just whispers of the sand
I was churning. water murky, broken 

the system is broken, they just sigh out 
accept and find new things to scream about 
cups, shoes, lid tight on them, suffocating 

they slam their doors, funds are for our wars, so,
open yours, four hundred thousand in line