6/30
wither away in the spring
like pollen drifting on a breeze
there are no ambulances left for you
mend your own stitches - that's what
a real man would do (spartacus, a veteran)
sell your beloved for silver
sell your guts for gold
tame your friend for a penny
kill your mind for a seat in the sky
you will be left behind in the winter
while all the others head out south
but your cleft wings are stitched
with blue and hot strings
(hot and cold; i just want to fly like them)
and your body is composed of
fleshy yellow metals
(don't open your mouth)
so the sky rains upon the earth
when you climb on it
(there's gold falling from the sky!)
who to blame but you
for not killing your mind
like i told you to
-
thank u to the smiths for their blue songs and inspiration behind the lyrics lol i'm pretty lonely and i still don't have a job and my mans is vacationing in another state i hate summer
