A man should die gaunt,
And not bloated and overdone,
There should be new words hidden,
In the shadows on his face,
And like a wine glass, in a perfect pitch, he breaks,
We're being dumped into order out of buckets of sea salt,
What was the first condiment?
But always one rose grows though a littered lot of gravel,
Or we're struck dumb and doomed when it doesn't 
Flowers are how plants laugh,
And not by joke or to ridicule,
I never saw my parents,
Try to make a thing like me
In time in the bathroom mirror,
I learned to accept my body.
I got jumped into living by a coven of midwives,
Under a dracula-caped eclipse,
Like cutting through watermelon meat with a wire,
You shoot sick from the hip and never miss.
All the things inside me i assume,
Are doing what they need to be doing,
And always one rose grows though a littered lot of gravel,
Or we're struck dumb and doomed when it doesn't.
Always one rose grows though a littered lot of gravel,
Or we're struck dumb and doomed when it doesn't.
Looks like a sky for shoeing horses under..
Looks like a sky, of some kind