The flies gather on the window,
They’re holding a meeting,
And I know they’re talking about me,
I crunch them individually,
It’s personal.
But afterwards I just stare out the window,
Watching the horrible lights flicker,
Those lights have trapped me,
Like they trap the flies,
I know they’re false,
On rainy days the flies don’t visit,
And I cry because I miss them.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 11:38 AM UTC
The flies gather on the window,
They’re holding a meeting,
And I know they’re talking about me,
I crunch them individually,
It’s personal.
But afterwards I just stare out the window,
Watching the horrible lights flicker,
Those lights have trapped me,
Like they trap the flies,
I know they’re false,
On rainy days the flies don’t visit,
And I cry because I miss them.
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