I keep a cool front ruin With no trace of kisses that left resin. My red bite meant to kiss you But I fell through like a Rock I breathe out ashes from the retired dragon in the story books, you know the ones made with overstocked pages of gold.
And so I'm told you're happy By a picture. You happy, I picture Without second thoughts Without me.
So maybe my grin isn't as curved as the cartoon from the birthday card I sent you Because that smile you wore made my stomach hurt Even made my phone sick.