On the stereo the song asks me to push it real good
Its true that for weeks I've been aping the songs of the flowers
All stem and need, all saffron that fleed
From the scene, demanding a little rest.
But the light unfolds into little deaths,
Winds strips the petals like unwelcome guests.
Hoe long have I stayed on this earth
Bleary and spitting in the jam?
Sire of unwelcome desires
I am I am I am
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