I was born in the triangular skull   they cracked my crust   pulled me into the dust.   I was raised under the apricot tree   orange pupils hanging over, watching me.   I was conceived on the hissing cot,   it pocked my body with navel knots.   I was laid down in a bed of barbed wire.   Orange and yellow roses from the Black Cactus Choir.      The Black Cactus Choir was born in the fire.   Like an angels cross eye tatooed to the sky.      Now Im on the run from the sores opening   underneath the ground. I was born in the   triangular skull.      You know Im watching you, you know Im watching you.