Too Much To Handle
Dead Flowers
That sit in a vase
Just way past their prime and grace
Like the love that once was ours
But it is no longer there
Not the passion nor the desire
Just a dulled memory of a glowing fire
And sometimes it’s just more than I can bare
That sit in a vase
Just way past their prime and grace
Like the love that once was ours
But it is no longer there
Not the passion nor the desire
Just a dulled memory of a glowing fire
And sometimes it’s just more than I can bare