Hundreds of candles
Burning simultaneously
Posthumously spinning
Himself into a thousand pieces
Fingerprints embodied
In glossy copies
Respect is too little
Fingers are too brittle
Keep moving towards your passion
Lily’s smell like candy
**** right they do
So let’s agree to disagree
You are free to believe
Whatever you'd like
If symphonies are streams
In which strings are dreams
That frequently
Get watered down
Then some pineapple juice
Sounds about heavenly
To me right now