Corey Smith – Cherokee Rose scritto da admin 18 Gennaio 2016 I’m a junkyard full of false starts and I don’t need your permission to bury my love under this bare light bulb the moon is a sickle cell it’ll kill you in time you cold white brother riding your blood like spun glass in sore eyes while the moon does it’s division you’re buried below and you’re coming up roses everywhere you go red roses follow the things that you tell yourself they’ll kill you in time you cold white brother riding your blood spinning in the night sky while the moon does its division you’re buried below and you’re coming up roses eveywhere you go red roses so you got in a kind of trouble that nobody knows it’s coming up roses everywhere you go red roses