Fruit Songtext
von Emily C. Browning

A heavy hanging beaten fruit
Overriping on the tree
A gentle shake to set me loose
To feel the roots and softened leaves

I love myself and she loves me
At gun point I′ll say honestly
A chomped up bit
A scratched up screen
Helps me to believe


I try to sit and spell it out
But I show my teeth and shut it down
I'm bristling into the wind
I don′t like to not like this

I need to be profound without
The practice or the failure
I'd rather knife the toaster
Or get careless 'round the staircase

Will I let go
Can I go slow
Will I let go
Can I go slow
Will I let go