What\'s it ever worth?
It\'s always the same clown masks and red lipstick
Always smeared as far away as a source of aid
And always boxed in as a unwanted hit
But maybe if I bring the acid
I\'ll be a god standing atop your dazed clouds
...
Send in another message of advice
And yet I\'m burning away all incoming letters
I guess it really is me to blame
As if the deprecation hinted at her for my melancholy
But when will she crawl out of my head?
Please do, for I don\'t even have vacancy for myself
...
And if it ever does really come back
Like the karma that likes to spit in my shoes
Will the sunlight given wilt my own dead flowers?
Might as well try
But then again
What\'s the point of pouring water on dead roses
...