I Fucked A Flower. I Grew A Garden.

Last week you gave me your pillow as we slept blanket-less on the hard wood floor

Fevered glands finding themselves in wet regret

Friendly hands no longer find

Trying daily to drink myself to sleep away my pining

Yet even when I spin to sleep

Its never quite the same

So I sit here and vomit for the trend

Cause I don’t think I’d ever seen you bleed so much

Oh how the colors raced down your face

Like fireflies in the night time skyline

Your eyes lit up

And the room dimmed down

Now we lay amongst the wilted wallpaper

And attempt to reinvent this room

Oh, and will you flush that condom for me?

Joshua Tool – 04/13/2007


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