Never a heaven
an age old question
Written from a cold place
I feel sour
I need a shower
Or just a slap in the face
Circumstance has
left romance and
a puzzle in front of me
Who knows the ending,
if the truth need bending,
A lie is the tool that you'll need
So I'm under a mountain
Stuck to this mattress
Perfume and valium
What makes a Sunday
different from Monday
Could be a look in her eyes
In need of flattery
she changes batteries
So that her light will shine
The words she utters
either flows or stutters
They're either silly or wise
Anger with concern
But never to yearn
Only to be by your side
Lay down with number 13
Its a cold gray shame
So I'm under a mountain
Stuck to this mattress
Perfume and valium
