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Translated title:
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Tilt - Molly Coddled |
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- Molly Coddled Lyrics
A pretty bride of India is burned with kerosene her husband keeps her = dowry and his freedom is achieved, a burnese girl in Bangkok is of value = for her skin, solid for her complexiion, never saw her home again. The = minister of culture, he argues so well, his teeth are flashing as he = details, a legacy of murder, a heritage of rape, a time honored = tradition to maim and mutilate. Cut away her labia with dirty broken = glass, she died of obstruction prainfully infected mass, a dress code = violation is an outrage in Iran, splashed her face with acid only them = the fun began. She wasn't good enough, a female child left face down = packed in the snow, umbilical cord around her tiny feet, she suffers and = dies alone. A woman in a western home is under house arrest, a drunkard = is her jailer he's entitled to molest, her daughter is passed over when = she tries to raise her hand, the likeliness of her success is not an = even chance. The minister of culture, he's wringing his hands, he keeps = on laughing as he demands-
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