Succulents from Scotland

You misplace your commas take your breaths a bit to late
Now you can't make up for time that you never let run away
You're so good at being useful nothing ever goes to waste
Smoke myself into a stupor so the clouds above my head don't look so

Grey

You're showing off your succulents
To prove that all the time you've spent
Has not be wasted at a company where you don't have a single friend
The hours drip like honey down the back of god's big turtle shell
You're feet are stuck as you're surrounded be a monotonous hell
I thought we'd make it out, that creativity would never die
But I've been fighting with myself, it's such a god damn waste of time

You sent me a postcard to prove that you can still write
You're words flow like a pee stream sneaking through the bathroom door late at night
I wish your voice weren't so quiet. If it's still there I hope you find it
It's note too late



Credits
Writer(s): Brandon Gross
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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