1:30
"Devil" you call me
But seem to be enjoying
The fruits of my labor that came to me too young
When he stole my virtue
I'm glad it seems to serve you
That I was born a daughter and not a son
For if I'm going down
I guess I'll take you with me
Screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing
And I will tell you now
That I'm not even singing
There's no escape for some