I hold an image of the ashtray girl
of cigarette burns of my chest
i wrote a poem that described her world
and put our friendship to the test
and late at night whilst on all fours
she used to watch me kiss the floor
what's wrong this picture?
farrewel the ashtray girl
forbidden snowflake
beware this troubled world
watch out for earthquakes
goobye to open sores
to broken semaphore
you know we miss her
we miss her picture
sometimes it's fated
(we) disintegrate it
for fear of growing old
spme times it's fated
(we) assassinate it
for fear of growing old
hang on
though we try
it's gone
I can't stop growing old