Flowers

He talks in flowers, says he misses me
But he’s too busy to see me
My thoughts on this matter are that
He talks in flowers and it feels like thorns
He talks in bouquets
I drink it up like a Cabernet
He knows when to call and just what to say
He talks in flowers and it feels like thorns
He takes me for a ride
Plucks my heart off my sleeve
Rips it up and throws it aside
Rips it up and throws it aside
Aside, aside, aside, aside
And it feels like thorns
Oh, he talks in flowers
It’s someday this and someday that
The days roll in and the days roll past
He talks in flowers and it feels like thorns