Heaven Has No Room

Make room for the twisted little kids.
Save space for the storage of their bodily fluids.
Bottling up your feelings,
and releasing the bottle tied to your hand.
I fell in love with a bottle of Jack.
Paved my way into a no-man's land.
She is alright, she is just playing dead.
No one wants to see what makes her so good with pretend.
The handgun welded to her wrist has a hairy trigger.
Something tells me she won't be pretending much longer.