Flowers grow in my lungs
And although they are beautiful with their thorns
Their leaves grow so thick
That I cannot breathe
I'd rip them out to give to you
A bouquet of flowers
But you stand there and say
'If you love me you'll
Suffocate for me'

So I swallow down the thorns once more and breathe through these
corrupted lungs
And I'll ask you
Would you do the same for me?
And you'll stare back, breathing with ease
And chant the lie, 'of course'

e.i