Fleur says she doesn't want to picked anymore
I said I understand and then tear off her blouse
Fleur sings the ballad of wedding jail
I hum along it gets me so aroused
Fleur says dying in her prime would be a sin
So I treat her with all respect
Fleur says her forehead is quite different from mine
But what did she expect
It's August
And we're dying
A little day by day
It's August
And we're trying
To kill our joys
With pain
Fleur gives names to all the anomalies
That have bruised her petals and bruised her heart
She gives names to all my apologies
I guess you can call it art
Fleur Laughs when she cries and kisses me goodnight
I wipe away her tears and I want inside
Fleur says nothing and then curses the moon
May she have her wish and die in her sleep soon
It's August
And we're dying
little day by day
It's August
And we're trying
To kill our joys
With pain

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