Coming Up Roses - Elliott Smith

I’m a junkyard full of false starts

And I don’t need your permission

To bury my love under this bare light bulb

The moon is a sickle cell

It’ll kill you in time

Your cold white brother riding your blood

Like spun glass in sore eyes

While the moon does its division

You’re buried below

And you’re coming up roses everywhere you go

Red roses follow

The things that you tell yourself

They’ll kill you in time

Your cold white brother alive in your blood

Spinning in the night sky

While the moon does its division

You’re buried below

And you’re coming up roses everywhere you go

Red roses

So you got in a kind of trouble that nobody knows

It’s coming up roses everywhere you go

Red roses