All the Broken Flowers Songtext
von Mark Sheeky

All the broken flowers that she gave me
As Christmas presents, as birthday gifts
She gave what she could, but had nothing
Oh how pitiful, the anguish

All the broken flowers that she gave me
Lined up on the window sill waiting for entropy
To eat them away, like her bones, her hair
Now grey and lost, the anguish


Eight summers since we met, five of rain
How being downtrodden can be addictive
And how romantic nostalgia is
Hiding the awful truth in a cloud of pink scent
Of flowers

Eight summers since we met, five of rain
And now she is gone to heaven
How romantic nostalgia is
Like a cloak of comfort for the tears

Perhaps if I′d loved the flowers more
She wouldn't have broken