Small Town Psychopath

Every night before I go to bed
A little voice inside my head says, "Baby is a psychopath."
Time has had the last laugh
We are the aftermath
The flotsam and the trash
But baby don't care
There's a jigsaw organic jar
A set of hands CPR
A natural born killer
Born in a million
She's a small town psychopath
It's a giant new clone
A designated throne
Keeps them warm, keeps them
Face mellow to the tarmac
Cashback flashback
Euthanasia generation
All hooked up on penetration
Blood tax index link
Fiddly bits, a suspect sting
A natural born killer
She's one in a million
A small town psychopath
Rolling in sweat
Filling in another form
Regurgitating flies
Propagating unborn
Yet another psychopath