Finer Thorns
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Finer thorns on my astonishing rose
As if you didn't know
There's always something to snag you up
When you deal with beautiful
Plastic sheet or a ghost in my tree?
Draw the blinds on the drear
Plastic sheet or a ghost in my tree?
Draw the blinds on the drear
Finer thorns my dear
Finer thorns you'll never know
Two slits of light
Reflected in the convex surface
In the morning
The light comes from either side
The broken fingers of dawn
(cracked nails and all)
Recede into full daylight
This room has four walls when it isn't night
Otherwise it's entire
Draw the blinds on the drear