Wrote this poem called, 'The Floods Roll On'
He said, this ain't yours
Where'd you get it from?
You must have stole it from a book, oh yeah
You must have stole it from a book.
'Cause you ain't frail
You ain't beautiful
And I don't fancy you at all
You'd be a ruin
If looks could kill
23A, Swan Hill
Stiff with rage, screaming at the sky
Innocence breaks
Says she wants to die
I'm assuming I'm alive, oh yeah
I'm assuming I'm alive
She pushes and she pulls
My legs go weak
In fascinating terror
The whole world moves
And I'm standing still
In 23A Swan Hill
And it's always raining
And you never ask why
You never give yourself a shot
You just sit and watch your life go by
Kicking stones at a still life
Want to pull it down, slash it, slash it
There must be some way out here
There must be some way out here
This ain't right, there must be more to life
Than breaking and entering
Doing people's heads in alcohol, nicotine
Thinking what I might have been
You would be a ruin
If looks could kill
23A, Swan Hill
And the whole world moves
And I'm standing still
In 23A, Swan Hill
And I will
And I will
And I will
And I will
In 23A, Swan Hill
And I will
And I will
And I will
And I will
In 23A, Swan Hill
And I will
And I will
And I will
And I will
In 23A, Swan Hill
© JESSE JOHN MUSIC;
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