| Apple |
|---|
| I could live by the river with both of my feet in the blues |
| Re-organize nature while I compartmentalize the sky, too |
| I could do what I do |
| And the rest of the world would have to pretend like they knew |
| With my roots in the water |
| Like some cigarette cellophane tooth |
| The heat in my head that would boil in your bed |
| And pull me into you |
| I could fill up the room with these things I been thinking about you |
| It’s true |
