Tekstovi: Emily Wells. Orchard.

The past is prophetic; Some days I am poetic.
Some days I know the rules, some days I play with them.
I am the orchard and the tree; I am my own worst enemy.
Jump start my lungs, kick the lever. I've gotten way too clever.
I've gotten way too?clever...
The past is poetic; Some days I am pathetic.
Some days I know the rules, some days I play by them.
I am the orchard and the tree; I am my own worst enemy.
Jump start my lungs, kick the lever. I've gotten way too clever.
I've gotten way too clever. I've gotten way too clever?
The day my childhood died, of old age and a broken leg.
I stayed awake, ate my mistakes, recalled an ever after.
Live. Live laughing laughter.
Live?Live laughing laughter.
Live?Live laughing laughter.
I am the orchard and the tree; I am my own worst enemy.
Jump start my lungs, kick the lever. I've gotten way too clever.
I've gotten way too?clever.
I've gotten?I've gotten way too clever?
Clever?I've gotten way too clever.
I've gotten?way too?clever.