Laying in the tub, blood on display
He slashed his wrists again today
Police pounding on the door.
Razor blade on the floor
There’s no escaping his awaiting jail cell
His only way out, emotional blackmail
The door finally broke
His mother, at last provoked.

It’s work before,
Mother busting down the door
Bailing him out of jail
Saving him from self-made hell
But he doesn’t want to be saved
His cars, his women, his drugs, is what he wants
His disregard for his mother and God he flaunts

He just wants the inevitable put on hold
He’s got the ghastly routine down cold
A slash to wrist
Mother always comes running
With money, lawyers, doctors
He is so cunning

He’s an expert manipulator, you see
That’s what drugs has taught him to be
He could have ended his life a dozen different ways
Overdose, blast to the head, wrecking his car in a fiery blaze
But he wants his mother to see the blood
Cutting wrists, seeing him crying
He must make her believe her only son is dying

Everything she must try. What else can she do?
Mother’s a Catholic, suicide’s taboo
She blames herself, she must do more

He's Trouble again; slash his wrist, its work before,
Mother’s always comes and breaks down the door.