Purple · Scripts

I think my hand fits yours
quite well.
I think your heart fits mine.
Quite disturbing really
how I can't seem to breathe
without you.
I heard a song that was about you
and all the chords they reminded
me of you
and Wilde said honey, my biography
is for you
and we laughed at his stupidity.

You broke every bone in my body
shattered like a glass
and Wilde said honey there
aint no sun without you
and I cried at his audacity.

Round the back of the schoolyard
over the burnt out hills
under the cock strung blues
and into the melody.