Catch me on my downfall Recommend a path to climb Help me bury hatchets after we finish this ax to grind Meet me by the orchid Teach me how to paint a portrait of life I just might, show you the one I recorded I forfeited before, booked tour, planned to skip town Set up by the river that shivers whenever kids drown This sound is dedicated to devils in dresses that collect the heads of ***ists men to decorate their necklace Adorn their breasts with broken hearts and medals of bitterness Trading angel wings so they can share a pair with Icarus In the midst of this, she sits alone, burning sandalwood No return on the girl in the mirror labeled damaged goods Women fight with competition Men fight with inkblots Girls stab backs and boys fight with slingshots When God breathes a little life in my windsock Imma pray she flies free when she has her wings chopped First to the last, dress the women in black Well studied students of the school of Sylvia Plath They got me down to science Figured out the chemistry Thank you for being the birth and the death of me Rest in peace love, stab me with your forked tongue Here's my back to pull your sword from when the inner war's done I know a girl who brings sun from the storm I know a girl who wants to run from the norm I know a girl who wants a father figure form and she'll make him feel loved drawing blood from her thorns Never burn a bra if you're seeking support And it isn't your affection that he's beating you for I see millions of inner children that you've killed in your past My beloved students of the school of Sylvia Plath Don't point a finger I didn't distort the picture Wake up, look inside, take a look at your sisters and just Rest Amongst the cobwebs in the attic sits my sister's rocking horse And the creaking still echoes in spite of my mothers cringing When the snow starting falling, she finally locked the door To mute the whispers of winter and it's painfully subtle singing (Snow Angels don't die) I can barely remember I've been busy building walls since the month of November She was painted in the leaves of autumn before the storm Borrowed my scarf that morning, promise me it kept her warm Promise me she saw flowers, promise me she heard birds chirping Sitting by the window sill, when she opened her curtain Drape the snow like velvet over cheekbones, leaving her impression The moment just before she leaves home, i'm tracing the shape of the part of me she pillaged, and in stillness, she got to see the seasons fade Annie, I'm sorry that I spilled hot chocolate on your dress and made you cry that morning on easter Make me a shade of green, stripe the heavens as a message to let me know you got the toys by your climbing tree This forest wears your shadow and its roots bear your essence And it doesn't plan to change, for as far as I can see. (If you need a nightlight, paint me a rainbow Look both ways, wipe the snow from your halo If you need anything, you can always say so I'm in the place where you left your snow angel)
Catch me on my downfall Recommend a path to climb Help me bury hatchets after we finish this ax to grind Meet me by the orchid Teach me how to paint a portrait of life I just might, show you the one I recorded I forfeited before, booked tour, planned to skip town Set up by the river that shivers whenever kids drown This sound is dedicated to devils in dresses that collect the heads of ***ists men to decorate their necklace Adorn their breasts with broken hearts and medals of bitterness Trading angel wings so they can share a pair with Icarus In the midst of this, she sits alone, burning sandalwood No return on the girl in the mirror labeled damaged goods Women fight with competition Men fight with inkblots Girls stab backs and boys fight with slingshots When God breathes a little life in my windsock Imma pray she flies free when she has her wings chopped First to the last, dress the women in black Well studied students of the school of Sylvia Plath They got me down to science Figured out the chemistry Thank you for being the birth and the death of me Rest in peace love, stab me with your forked tongue Here's my back to pull your sword from when the inner war's done I know a girl who brings sun from the storm I know a girl who wants to run from the norm I know a girl who wants a father figure form and she'll make him feel loved drawing blood from her thorns Never burn a bra if you're seeking support And it isn't your affection that he's beating you for I see millions of inner children that you've killed in your past My beloved students of the school of Sylvia Plath Don't point a finger I didn't distort the picture Wake up, look inside, take a look at your sisters and just Rest Amongst the cobwebs in the attic sits my sister's rocking horse And the creaking still echoes in spite of my mothers cringing When the snow starting falling, she finally locked the door To mute the whispers of winter and it's painfully subtle singing (Snow Angels don't die) I can barely remember I've been busy building walls since the month of November She was painted in the leaves of autumn before the storm Borrowed my scarf that morning, promise me it kept her warm Promise me she saw flowers, promise me she heard birds chirping Sitting by the window sill, when she opened her curtain Drape the snow like velvet over cheekbones, leaving her impression The moment just before she leaves home, i'm tracing the shape of the part of me she pillaged, and in stillness, she got to see the seasons fade Annie, I'm sorry that I spilled hot chocolate on your dress and made you cry that morning on easter Make me a shade of green, stripe the heavens as a message to let me know you got the toys by your climbing tree This forest wears your shadow and its roots bear your essence And it doesn't plan to change, for as far as I can see. (If you need a nightlight, paint me a rainbow Look both ways, wipe the snow from your halo If you need anything, you can always say so I'm in the place where you left your snow angel)
