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freddie-j — 123456789101112
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Published: 2010-06-30 20:31:50 +0000 UTC; Views: 123; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 10
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Description
Five, six, seven, eightPretty love sees pretty hate
And they're off to see a play
Eating off a porcelain plate
Pretty white bread made of clay,
Dancing while they celebrate
Their newfound love of pretty days
All the opera house a haze
Of dance and songs and music.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve
No matter just how deep you delve
There's no more than what you see
Like a doll sat on your shelve
I'm nothing more to see than me.
Two, three, four, five
Bees make honey in their hives
They look happy, gay as knives
How I wonder if they see
Their subtle lives, monotony
For service of their loving queen
As true freedom, or slavery.
1
We'd love to gaze straight at the sun
Our warm and bright old lover
I wonder if it's worth it to anyone
Blinded, as any other.
