Beautiful Disaster

[Intro]
Keep throwing those rocks.
Keep throwing those rocks.
He who hides his hands.

[Verse 1]
All who sit on their porches,
slapping flies,
telling your lies,
so eager to bury her
and forget that she died.

Intentional exclusion
by the ones who claim inclusion.
Who are you but wasted illusions,
with your twisted intentions
and scripted perceptions,
bearing nothing but cryptic delusions,
forcing fragmented reflections.

[Chorus – Chant]
Not her story.
Not her shame.
Not her sentence.
Not her blame.

[Verse 2]
Outcasted at birth,
she was meant to be hurt.
Sentenced to hell,
served out on this earth.

Unable to see the forest for the trees,
severed at her very knees.

Rest assured,
the ground she walks on is covered.
The war she battles alone
cripples her ability to discover—
to discover her own self-worth
before others.

[Chorus – Chant]
Not her story.
Not her scars.
You don’t get to say
who she is or was.

[Verse 3]
She did not choose the story
that was written,
begging the author
to rip the pages
covered in blood,
trauma and pain,
loss and confusion.

Please—
rip them all out,
clear down to the spine.

What is she to grasp for
when there is no lifeline?
Desperate for rest
from the shadows that bind.

[Bridge]
Irreparable ruins
from a life not chosen
has left her lost,
alone,
and broken.

None of that matters
to all you who stand watch,
casting your votes,
taking all your sketchy notes.
You think her life is a fucking joke,
that protecting herself
is what she wanted wrote.

[Final Chorus – Chant]
Not her story.
Not her shame.
Not her sentence.
Not her blame.

[Outro]
Be thankful
the author of your story
didn’t write the same book.
Maybe you should stop all your laughter—
you couldn’t even survive
the very first chapter.

Consider that.
Silence your chatter.

Her life has no effect on yours,
so keep on moving
right past hers.

Let her be.
Let her be
that beautiful disaster.

Country rock soul — spoken-word intensity, heavy low-tuned guitars,dark soul grit, emotional weight, raw truth