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Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky

You have your very own number

They dress your cage in its nature

Once you roared now you just grunt lame

Pace around pathetic pound gameswant to get out won't miss you sensaround

To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks

want to get out in here you're bred dead quick

For the outside

The small black flowers that grow in the skyThey drag sticks along your walls

Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl

Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elders

Environment not yours you see through it allwant to get out won't miss you sensaround

Carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks

want to get out in here you're bred dead quick

For the outside

The small black flowers that grow in the sky

Songwriters

BRADFIELD/EDWARDS/JONES/MOOREPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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