throughout the orchards of my past i tend to run, forgetting
the pain in love and the joy of lust.
the sweet scent of the orange that dropped out makes me
shout:

where was the affection i so rightly deserved? where did
innocence run to hide? how come love out of natural causes
died?

breathing the sweet air of the wet trees allowing it all to
float yet again, i never really understood how processing
pain can make u so numb. making your way up u meet the
slippery sloop hopefully someone will throw u a rope.

where was the affection i so rightly deserved? where did
innocence run to hide? how come love out of natural causes
died?