Bob Mould - Thirty Dozen Roses Lyrics

Some days, my brain blows up in an elegant way
My muse, short fuse, time bomb, what's left to lose?

Olive branches piled up at your door
You don't let me come inside your place no more

I lose track of myself as I fall to the bottom of a wishing well
My bones, they break so clean, leave a perfect space between

You adorned with ornamental jewels
And me, a thorn, I'm such a lousy prick to you
Chocolate doesn't faze you any more
You found a sweeter filling, this is rotten to the core

The swollen hollow of my wobbly heart
Thirty dozen roses, that might be a start
I'm feeling hopeless
Thirty dozen roses

Olive branches piled up at your door
You don't let me come inside no more

The swollen hollow of my wobbly heart
Thirty dozen roses, that might be a start
I'm feeling hopeless
Thirty dozen roses
I'm feeling hopeless
Thirty dozen roses
I'm feeling hopeless
Thirty dozen roses