you smell like blue flowers and taste like gasoline
we went to your dad's funeral and you told me
that you never knew him the way you know me
my heart is made of wet batteries, and the way you
look at me when i cry
oh, lord, we could have built cities in france
and we could have painted paintings in florida
my doctor doesn't get me and my mother doesn't want to
"pink pills will take away the pain" they all say
but why don't they know
that if the pain is gone,  
so am i