'All My Pretty Dead Things'
Pick me a pretty flower A black rose to match my soul A freesia for a lover lost An iris to die in a vase All my pretty dead things All standing in a row All my wilted children We have no place to go All my pretty dead things I am one of your ken We were born with death in our eyes We'll die when life's had her revenge Wish upon a dying star A ghost to haunt me still A baby full of luster A martyr to die on a cross Written January 3rd, 2002 © on Jan 03 2002 02:56 AM PST 18 • 0 • 10
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"Pick me a pretty flower..."