Eat your words, eat your heart out
Eat your words, eat your heart out
There's not much left, just my red dress
Just this feeling that I got
You made me a victim in your Christmas kitchen
It's my memory it's your loss
Blue blac,k maybe you got something
But the flowers grew back
And was it familiar when you touched my sister
God, I don't think there's a word for that
Blue black, maybe you got something
But the flowers grew black
I gave it away, whore for a day
It's so ugly, I'm still breathing
But you never got my virgin heart
It stayed locked up, it's still beating
Writer(s): Heather Nova
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