| The River Rushes (To Screw MD Over) |
|---|
| Expertly, the river flows |
| Eventually, it takes me home |
| The weeping willows upon the shore |
| Are memories of lovers gone |
| And I don’t think these things are real |
| They might be hints of used to be |
| Like lovers lusting on the breeze |
| Or fuckers burning out their knees |
| Waiting as themes are freed |
| From faces in a memory |
| I can say «Ain't it silly» |
| For remembering what used to be |
