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i now am aware that flowers don't growwhen the soil they give you is dry to the bonewell, i'll stave of the drought with a watering canthat they fill with the blood of a working class manoh wellthe wind casts a breadth and the seeds toss in placeas they scatter dysphoric, they all dissipatewell, i gladly stand by as they waft in the breezesince i had none to start, i am used to defeatoh welland i don't miss those rainy daysi've grown too fond of suburban decayno, i don't miss those rainy dayson second look, who do we have to blame? From Letras Mania