Quindon Tarver: Flower

She Dreams of the CountryHer Eyes Go Far Away.She Wishes For FlowersHe Says, "Perhaps in May."The City Always Was GrayThe Reflections of His Eyes.And She Knows He Liked It That WayAnd That Way He Shall Die, Well...She's Always Known,That There Was Something More.There's This Hunger in Her BellyLike An Instinct It Tells Her That There's Something More.This Living Shouldn't Be Called Living'cause It's Really Only Half a Life.She's a Flower That Grows Despite Cement HolesAnd She Will Survive, She Will Survive.She's a Rare Breed With Violet EyesAnd Leafy Limbs.In Conversations She Looks For CracksTo Dig Her Roots Deep In.And Her Ways Come Up Like Daisies,She Pushes Her Head to the Sun.She Says "I Am Content Here to GrowDespite the Steel Frost That Consumes Everyone."She's Always Known,That There Was Something More.There's This Hunger in Her BellyLike An Instinct It Tells Her That There's Something More.This Living Shouldn't Be Called Living'cause It's Really Only Half a Life.She's a Flower That Grows Despite Cement Holes.And She Will Survive, She Will Survive.In the End These Steel Cages Will Consume UsAnd Like Coffins Ignorance Will Take Us in AndFashion Don't Mean Anything'cause Fashion Cannot Be Our Friends.And When All Else Fades AwayAnd the City Falls Into Its Sleep.We'll Still Have Flesh, Blood, Bones AndOur Soul to Deal With So We ShouldDig Our Roots Deep.Always Known,That There's Something More.There's This Hunger in Our BelliesIt's Like An Instinct It Tells Us That There's Something More.This Living Shouldn't Be Called Living'cause It's Really Only Half a Life.She's a Flower That Grows Despite Cement Holes.And We Will Survive, We Will Survive, We Will Survive, We Will Survive.