Lotte Kestner

Crush The Bird

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If I make allowances
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