Coming Up Roses

I'm a junkyard full of false starts
And I don't need your permission
To bury my love under this bare light bulbThe moon is a sickle cell
It'll kill you in time
You cold white brother riding your blood
Like spun glass in sore eyesWhile the moon does its division you're buried below
And you're coming up roses
Everywhere you go red roses followThe things that you tell yourself
They'll kill you in time
You cold white brother alive in your blood
Spinning in the night sky