America bled to death,
Electric and pregnant,
Brilliant sluts and fire worship,
Devouring the righteous,
We were just monkeys braiding thread,
We were golden needles,
Diamonds and pollen...
Then Coma White,
A mannequeen of depression,
With the face of a dead star,
Fagged out for the corner,
She was so soft in her death,
And the pomegranate Earth,
Spins into oblivion,
The one that trembles,
The one that fears,
The one that suffers,
The one that vomits,
The one that needs,
A million scars,
A million promises,
And all your sad endings,
Are planting in their gardens,
And their waiting to grow,
And to die like flowers too,
And all your sad endings,
Are planting in their gardens,
And their waiting to grow,
And to die like flowers to...
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