That wastless space,
under the stairs,
made my heart race,
like a bucket and pears.
All the things you did,
under the stairs,
made me hid,
like a bucket and pears.
That bucket and pears,
did bad things to me,
made me cry and hide,
until there was no more me.
You put me down,
and made me small,
but that bucket and pears
still made me who i am today.
And that bucket and pears,
were seen that last night,
before you could look at the seams.
