Flower petals do not die
Fold them neatly
And place them on my upper thigh
Think about how they do treat me
Like I’m the thorn to a rose
Wishing to ***** their pointer finger
They don’t know me I suppose
Maybe when I grow up I’ll be a drinker
Drink myself to death and beyond
slouch upon my ***** couch
Thinking about the time when I was blond