There's no picture I could paint to tell you what you mean to me And no poem I could write to tell you what you mean to me You're more than fire you
another sucka nigga held a motherfucking trigger to my dome and said thats my girlfriend I said your girlfriend ain't nothing but a bitch to me and while ya loving the fool
nights are strong and soft Private passions and secret storms Nothing about him ticked her off And he looks so cute in his uniform She plants her garden
And remember the faces We wore at school Making the madness And solitary sadness A friendly fool I thought of stories They told us long ago Of how the world was a perfume garden
There's a kid out on my corner hear him strumming like a fool Shivering in his dungarees but still he's going to school His cheeks are made of peach fuzz
?m standing right in front of you But you don?t know what to do It?s the fear of thorns keeps you out of the garden Be brave, be the fool you?ve never
God. It's the end of the world, the end of the world. We're dead though pretend we're alive. Full of ignorance, fools in disguise. In your room doing nothing
shut your mouth, you don?t matter, like lint Larry Flint might argue that your voice means nothing But I be like Bush and say for safety it means nothing
at my beautiful garden and told your father that what she wanted more than anything in the world was Greens, greens and nothing but greens: Parsley
of our adventures Ive done nothing wrong and though you've taught me how to breathe, I'm taking my new voice and leaving you hear with nothing. She
Feathers burn so easily, the cat is blinded in the garden, last vision the lark is flame. The cattle shed gives off the smell of sunday kitchen, the gentle
Feathers burn so easily, the cat is blinded in the garden Last vision the lark is flame The cattle shed gives off the smell of sunday kitchen The gentle
than meets the eye than mine have ever seen. Garden over me, you never know the grief, Hide this side away to satisfy belief, I can't stand the agony of nothing
Garden streets to nowhere, balcony views hilltop house with a narrow hall filled with drugs and booze bus lets off at the city square and our youthfulness
me boys. No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic Or bodies pathetic can give such a bloom As the sweet by the powers in the garden of flowers Ever gave
the same old songs You stuff your moral rule book Of what's allowed, what's right and wrong Oh yeah, there's those who only criticise yet offer Nothing
was breath out sugar frosted blood (what do I do now? tell me lest I do nothing... guardian devil) I'd like to make a toast to all the little garden
caked up and faked up, she's obsessed with the outside. nothing earned, too afraid to fail. so she leads a hollow life void of insight loving what you
