bleeding, jazz and cold-water flat screaming fall, down into love.
Saying things that if said are suppose to last.
But then you burn up, and your gone in a flash.
So I want to see you differently?
On your knees.
On the ground.
Tearing through, give
tones for loans and
broken homes and dimes.
Got bitter bottles, got
carcenogenic lungs. Got
red hands and fun.
Said if you could see me now.
You don't say that you don't.
'Guess you go to far when piano's try to be guitars.'