You are something to be proud of. You're in, into my mind clique. I still believe I am out there, floating through your messy hair.
We will dance with broken toes. We will sing with ulcers in our mouths. We will move through the pointed arrows. We will rise from the grave of doubt.
Weave my ribcage into, a quilt to keep you warm. Untie my legs from each other. Blue lips, but I still miss the kiss, the lover.
We will dance with broken toes. We will sing with ulcers in our mouths. We will move through the pointed arrows. We will rise from the grave of doubt.

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