Lyrics The Jonbenet - Behold, The White Whore

The speakeasy parlor was
filled with many
a fair lady, Fallen victim
to another mind rape by their
Christian fathers.
"It was never easy
to show them I loved them,"
He said... Oh, He said
as He was
removed from the booth.
No one had the time
to listen to Him,
They don't care!
It wasn't His thing to talk like that, Waking up the next day
In a nightmare of a grey colored room full of friends
With no names and metal as cold as, as cold as hell.
This was yet another favorite of His,
Concious effort was put into everything
that He didn't do
And everything else was a failed plan.
Why didn't this work!?
Why didn't this work?!
If only gratitude could get you somewhere.
If only gratitude could get you somewhere!
Censor His bleeding hands,
broken teeth and blood-red hair.
This is His love to them all.
Yet another day
blessed with His presence!
Continue to beat Him,
this is His love!
Censor His bleeding hands,
broken teeth and blood-red hair.
This is His love.
Not another day
blessed with His presence!
Continue to beat Him,
this is His love!
Coughing up His mother's love all over a plate of refurbished organisms, This is His love!
Coughing up His mother's love all over a plate of refurbished organisms, This is His love!
Oh Mother Mary, forgive them, for they have won. They have won!
Oh Mother Mary, forgive them, for they have won. They have won!
Spoken fast enough to spark a memory into everyone's tired mind!
Built upon a cross of clothes and thorns of wrinkled scarves,
And hung from a ceiling, and sent to every child's living room.
Built upon a cross of clothes and thorns of wrinkled scarves,
And hung from a ceiling, and sent to every child's living room!
Depictions of life as told by a subdued body within us all.
We aren't loved anymore.
Behold, the White Whore.