Say The Flowers Aren’t For Me

I can hear you crying • Dreams denied and pushed away • Memories lie dying in your eyes • I can hear you burning • With the words you can not say • And the tears you’re learning to disguise

CHORUS • Say the flowers aren’t for me • Let the last light die • In my heart is love that I must hide

I can hear you breathing • Tattered sound I know too well • And the silence seething in my ear

CHORUS

Say the flowers aren’t for me • Let me say goodbye • In my heart is love I must let die

© Zen Greenway

Picture Credit – eak_kkk

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It’s obvious that when the apocalypse comes, I will be one of the weak people. I will have no spin kicks with which to defend myself. I will have only the magic of my words and my understanding to protect me. I will be meat for the beast. (Unless I can engage him in conversation.) And I am fine with that. If my death at monstrous hands becomes imminent, I hope I can meet it in a lounge chair, sipping on a gin martini.

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