cocked
cropped
i'm waiting
for all of you
to get tired
of knock
knocking
on my door
prying
away slowly
at my concrete
oh/ it's the smell of dirt
again.
lodged in my nostrils
oh/
it's the smell of pretty words again
(pick pocketer/ corner cutter/ like butter)
small poision
in
small hands
head back tilted
throat loves you
away.it's.
never going to go
away.
until i tell it to.
(cling)
(cling)
(cling)
(cling)
