Nevermore brothel

He was a silent child who played on a white carpet
 In the main room of the Nevermore Brothel
 Lady, his mother, was sitting, knitting under a blanket
 In the dimming light of the Nevermore Brothel
 He was working on a giant toy, a kind of great machine
 And asked his mother "Why are you my mom?"
 She replied and told him that she'd always been mean
 To him as if he'd been a grown-up
 The boy then stopped and went to kiss his mother's hand
 Sat at her side, the woman then laughed out:
 You carry your soul like a broken arm
 In a loosened white and stained scarf
 She stretched her legs and let her head fall back
 On the green couch of the Nevermore Brothel
 As she was looking at him, his eyes turned black
 He stood and beat her in the Nevermore Brothel
 From the door came the father in his old costume
 And then he... Then he jumped on his son
 And then he strangled him!
 The mother then broke a bottle of cheap perfume
 As if to say "I'm quite fed up with my knit.
 And... Anyway... You are BOTH as BORING as my SILLY WORK!
 I'd rather DIE right now, my life is done!
 MY LIFE IS DONE!"
 Daddy dropped his son and laughed mouth wide
 In the main room of the Nevermore Brothel
 The son, cheerful, ran to his mother's side
 And danced around her in the Nevermore Brothel