Thorn In Your Side - The Postmarks

A rose is undressed

The faint perfume fills the air

Feel a thorn as it grazes your side but you know it’s not the end of the world

Words on your plate

The cat run away with a lick

Now you’re sitting all by yourself in a room that’s more blank than a stare

Far away

You can find a place

Where happy ends, begin

A distant sound

Can’t escape the cotton air

But an egg penetrates through the fog covered glass at the end of the world

Crystal ball

In the mudd, all the sky disappeared

Thirsty vases rest headless on tables while curtains get snagged on the thorns

Meet me there

On a shooting star

We can start again at the end of the world