Tears On Fresh Fruit

Just when you've found your way to

The boiler room

They come and dig you out

With picks and shovels and

Acetelyne torches



I couldn't do nothing but watch as her tears fell on fresh fruit

Behind the boney walls of my skull

There was playing a lullaby



La la la la la la la la la la la, la la la la la



We're just trying to be free

Of our bodies

Our stomachs full of liquor

All our lungs

Full of water



I couldn't do nothing but watch as her tears fell on fresh fruit

Behind the boney walls of my skull

There was playing a lullaby



La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la, la


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