C'est La Vie -

I found a balance bearn made of paper cranes

And immigrant teeth that runs to the edge of the sea

If there is a goddess there, filled with poppy and clean air

I would rest my head

I trace, I trace, I retrace instead

But should I sit so still

And fill my gills with carbon monoxide

Please

Just let me forget how to breathe

Paint me dead in the street and heaving

My jaw is tired from popping and snarling

And it was you

It was all you

But I’ve been swallowed by cities

And slaughtered by beauties

But oh

But oh

I am that ghost

I am that gost

There is no La Vie en Rose

But should I sit so still

And fill my gills with carbon monoxide