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Coming Up Roses

I'm a junkyard full of false starts

And I don't need your permission

To bury my love under this bare light bulbThe moon is a sickle cell

It'll kill you in time

You cold white brother riding your blood

Like spun glass in sore eyesWhile the moon does its division you're buried below

And you're coming up roses

Everywhere you go red roses followThe things that you tell yourself

They'll kill you in time

You cold white brother alive in your blood

Spinning in the night sky

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