Lotte Kestner
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Crush The Bird

Lotte Kestner


if i make allowaces
i'm fine with separate, and see-how-it-is
understood
if you think it's good
do they make flowers for this
what color means you don't care how she lives
i'd expect just a little bit.
me, i wouldn't trade
me, i wouldn't trade for what you're made of
lover becomes secretive
"don't ask
i won't tell
we'll see how it is"
understood
if you say it's good
do they make flowers for this
what color means you don't care how she is
i'd expect just a little bit.
me, i wouldn't trade
me, i wouldn't trade for what you're made of
did i try too hard loving
crush the bird you're holding
me, i wouldn't trade
me, i wouldn't trade for what you're made of compasses
what i want sometimes is a roof somewhere
the same one each time, like a real woman
home, to be home
to be home
like a black sea turtle swimming back
sailors who sail without compasses
right, to be right
to be right
if the stars stick why can't i

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