And she's somebody's baby still.

She yells, "if you were homeless, sure as hell you'd be drunk,
Or high or trying to get there, or begging for junk.
When people don't want you, they just throw you money for beer."

Her name was November, she went by Autumn or Fall.
It was seven long years since the Autumn, when all
Of her nightmares grew fingers and all of her dreams grew a tear.

She's somebody's baby, somebody's baby girl.
She's somebody's baby, somebody's baby girl,
And she's somebody's baby still.

She screams, "Well if you've never gone at it alone,
Well then go ahead, you better throw the first stone.
You got one lonely stoner, waiting to bring to her knees"

She dreams about heaven, remembering hell,
As a nightmare she visits, and knows all too well.
Every now and again, when she's sober, she brushes her teeth.

She's somebody's baby...


Today was her birthday, strangely enough,
When the cops found her body at the foot of the bluff.
The anonymous caller this morning tipped off the police.

They got her I.D from her dental remains,
The same fillings intact, the same nicotine stains.
The birth and the death were both over, with no one to grieve.

She's somebody's baby...