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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1678850
Rated: 13+ · Lyrics · Music · #1678850
You've made a mess of things, you and your simple wings...
Die, Fly


You’ve made a mess of things

You and your simple wings

Well, I’m a man of simple tastes

And I don’t want to see you go to waste



In the toothpaste, that’ll leave a taste

I can’t embrace, so what’s the buzz

Fly on the wall, you know I’ve planned your fall


You know they’re searching, looking for an answer

Need to find a hero in this fossilized crowd

But the truth seems plagiarized

Feelings like this make you miss Los Angeles

But nights like this come but not at all



Fly, do you have a broken wing?

Well it’s no big surprise

I am the man with the egg yolk eyes!

That’s Right! See if you can survive a kitchen knife



I see you by the cheese and chives,

you and your chromatic eyes

won’t suffice when I drown you in cherry pie


You know they’re searching, looking for an answer

Need to find a hero in this fossilized crowd

But the truth seems plagiarized

Feelings like this make you miss Los Angeles

But nights like this come but not at all



Toxic to the human touch, it’s only Saturday once

So grow wings and forget the small things

The small people; after all you die in the cradle, baby.

Five inches tall and three feet too small,

Riding the radio wave while your butler tidies your simple grave


DIE FLY!

SPLAT!



© Copyright 2010 Bo Floyd (bo_floyd at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1678850