---

Split his ribs open using my bare hands, but
I could not repair all of the damage.
Built of milk and flesh so
meek and mild, but I know, if he'd lived,
he'd have grown to be wild.

They broke him and they beat him
and break he did.
They took him from me, my baby,
and break he did.

His skin went white as chalk,
his limbs turned soft and limp
I cradled him through those moments of weakness.

I watched him drift between the worlds of living and dead
until he sunk down into the pavement;
they broke him and they beat him,
and break he did.
They took him from me, my baby,
and break, he did.

And he laid there for days in the cold and the wind
but I could not breathe life back in;
I tried to fill up his lungs with the air from my own,
but he did not wake up again,
no, he didn't.

Split his ribs open using my bare hands, but
I could not repair all of the damage.

---

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