Play me a song

Make it rhyme

Let me belong

In your freak slide

Of turbulence

The (dead) roses you can’t hide

Are giving you a high temperature

You said you were love sick and cried

The photo booth life story perception

And I gave you all my advice

Adore; they now because they won’t be hear later

And even though the words bound aren’t to entice
I will embrace you so you know it matters