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| Lisa Loeb Miscellaneous Furious Rose "it's not really poetry but it's pretty," he said. as he raises his voice, she lowers her head. "it make my heart heavy, you're lonely, i think. oh rose, your're sad i suppose." "Look in her bed and she's bound to be sleeping. she's lying there dead - no, she's breathing." furious rose, with your opiate eyes. your languorous hum, that tone of surprise. i've heard energy in adversity. your smile: the soul of witchery. you're not running away, you're not running - are you? lyrically longing, she's tearing the words from the page. she's fearfully seething. "bring me your blessings, a prayer, or a new pen. - you don't know what i need." "look in my bed and i'm bound to be sleeping, i'm lying there dead, but i'm breathing. and i'm barely balancing as it is, and i don't want to drown in my dreams. bring me wild plums and agrimony - i bet you don't even no what that means." furious rose, with your opiate eyes. and your languorous hum, that tone of surprise. i've heard the energy in adversity. your smile: the soul of witchery. you're not running away, youre not running - are you? gingerly peering, over his shoulder, removed herself from the room. she's terribly freezing, she always knows when to go. |
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