Love there are flowers hanging in the vine
So high...you cannot see
Now my mind must go on holiday,
torn from it's hook, a broken valentine
I see the smoke from a revolver,
will I get hit? I hardly care
When I'm bombed I stretch like bubblegum
And look too long straight at the morning sun
Love there are flowers along the avenue,
all things perfectly in place
I build a shrine, I settle a monument
Because you're fire
Because you're a fire escape

MARK LANEGAN - BOMBED