Friday, April 29, 2011

Every Time, With Bruises

I dream you in, I drain you out
You return, confusing
Grow on me, I cut you off
Always above me
One swift blow and a twelve step programme
Find the cure, blame the weak
Your thighs, open to interpretation
With instructions inscribed at the back

Oh my God, Oh my God
Write me a note, write me off
Oh my God, Oh my God
These leaves will all be blown away

I fuck you hard, you fuck me up
Every time, with bruises
You trip on me, I rip you out
Your roots will tie me down again
Ten swift blows, no twelve step programme
Will find the cure, steer the weak
Your thighs and rubber ducks belong
To someone less deserving

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