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Текст: Rachel Zamsteen. Bouquet.

:
Pick me up from the bottom of a cup, I'm drowning

I got a bouquet of flowers for a friend

'Cause I'm sick of all his frowning

You know he really should be more grateful

For all the things he's got

He's got a family that loves him

And you know they love him a lot

Still he yearns to take himself out

By the train tracks with a shot

He got more, more, more, he wants more



Don't take the words I say in this song

With more than a grain of salt

I just left my boyfriend for slapping me

'Cause he said it was my fault

I'll never see eye to eye with that mentality

Now he's an enemy, so much for meant-to-be

Rolling over and dying has never been my thing

Now I want more... more... more. I want it all



Here I come following you as if I lost my way

Standing there (mouth agape)

Collecting flies like I ain't got shit to say



So I'll keep thinking and talking out loud

In the world inside my head

Not hearing a single fuckin' word that I just fuckin' said

If I am my own worst enemy then it would be better off to be dead

But I want more... and more... and still I want it all

Everyone's a wreck... anyone could be next (this is the end)