Flower

Along her vain parade Along her veins All of seventeen Eyes a purple green Treated like a queen She was on borrowed self-esteem She would do her dance A painful masquerade Spinning you into her web Along her vain parade In her uniform Studded brass and steel Kissing napkin lipstick stains And smearing sincerity Along her vain parade Along her veins Time crept up on her She's early gray Her reflection looks concerned And flowers hit her grave