Nectarines, rosemary
Don't fret on me, guitars playing
Mandarin skies are gone
When your problems under microscopes
Cold winter I like the fog
Breeze blows through my scarf
Chocolate frogs, dead flowers
Street silent, early hours
Don't speak when you're walking
Transport, tombstone hour
Leaves crunch under chucks
Honey spilled on the counter
Silver coins in the cup
I wake up like volcano
Heavy boulders, off my shoulders
Off the charger in the shower
Hot water, steamed glass
Wipe a circle off the mirror
See my self at my purest
Towel over me, don't shiver
