beau blood rush
03/21/08, 12:33 AM
*song i wrote for a female vocalist, i havn't decided which yet, i think i'll give it to a few and see who does it best
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
she walks Melbourne city streets,
like business men sell souls carelessly
these empty windows stare at me,
theres more than memories slipping up these sleeves
kid you made a mistake coming here,
i whisper softly in his ear, i whisper softly in his ear
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
one day, we'll call you a friend
if i was only who they think i am,
i'm the sand when the tides rolling in
i'm the last secret closet
whose locks have been tampered with
kid you made a mistake coming here,
i whisper softly in his ear, i whisper softly in his ear
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
one day, we'll call you a friend
we are, we are, we are, worse for wear at best
but, we're not, we're not, we're not, ones to give in
i'll throw a line out to the streetlights
to see if they would sing with me
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
one day, we'll call you a friend
one day we'll call you a friend
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
she walks Melbourne city streets,
like business men sell souls carelessly
these empty windows stare at me,
theres more than memories slipping up these sleeves
kid you made a mistake coming here,
i whisper softly in his ear, i whisper softly in his ear
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
one day, we'll call you a friend
if i was only who they think i am,
i'm the sand when the tides rolling in
i'm the last secret closet
whose locks have been tampered with
kid you made a mistake coming here,
i whisper softly in his ear, i whisper softly in his ear
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
one day, we'll call you a friend
we are, we are, we are, worse for wear at best
but, we're not, we're not, we're not, ones to give in
i'll throw a line out to the streetlights
to see if they would sing with me
we are a bouquet of bad habits
but you are the florist weaving them
one day, we'll call you a friend
one day we'll call you a friend