Boxing About
Robert Pollard
The flower of your madman
May start to grow
In your heart
It's been in you not confident
But in the naked city
I spot it in the dark
Whore memories have taken
The vaccinations from your box
From pockets of no stoppage
The madness of the factories
The spacing of the rocks
I need my defiance
Your prayer, come on sing it to me
The tower of your madness
Why, it makes me die
Many style is blues
Everything is what we may lose
Your innocence is pale
Standing to my hammer and nail
So drive, not drive
Just nail it, not paying too mind
The time, not times
No ceiling, no walls or deadlines
To find, not find
I'm failing to keep you inside
But I'm getting much better
I'm getting much better