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Flower

Lyrics by chris cornell

Music by kim thayilAll of seventeen

Eyes a purple green

Treated like a queen, she was

On borrowed self esteemShe would do a dance

A painful masquerade

Spinning you into her web

Along her vain paradeIn her uniform

Studded brass and steel

Kissing lipstick, napkin stains

And smearing sincerityAlong her vain parade

Along her veinsTime crept up on her

She's early gray

Her reflection looks concerned

As flowers hit her grave

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