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Little Blue Flowers
Jack watches his pretty neighbour Idle plough, wasted labour Hat on his heart, darkening fields Lonely crops that jut won’t yield Dirty fingers and sun baked skin A working mans stench and a hip flask of gin Heavy lids lift in sunken sockets A handkerchief and blade in his left pocket
Where she lay, so still Little blue flowers bloom In seeds, dirt and agony Little blue flowers bloom
The wind danced around her legs Whipping, taunting and teasing up her dress Her hands full of pegs and wet clothes She bit her bottom lip as he approached Water dripping her grip so tight Her knuckles started turning white He said do you live here alone? He broke her defences like little bird bones
Where she lay, so still Little blue flowers bloom In seeds, dirt and agony Little blue flowers bloom
He saw a thousand sorrows unfold She’s a beautiful disaster and I’m way too old But he could smell her hair like new mown hay It made him fell a certain way Her pink skin dusted in washing powder Her dress was white with little blue flowers It hung at her knees and split open Like an invitation
Where she lay, so still Little blue flowers bloom In seeds, dirt and agony Little blue flowers bloom Pitchfork eyes and grinning The washing line spinning The wind moaned the trees’ groaned
Where she lay, so still Little blue flowers bloom In seeds, dirt and agony Little blue flowers bloom
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