Box Of Limes

This box of limes is burning cold

Come all these moonbeams, burning down my door

These dirty rhymes are on a roll

That's not what it seems

Crawling across your floor



Fading stars in the purple orange night

Growing dreams of roses blue and white



This toothpick, Baby, is burning wax

Pigs on a postcard are playing jacks

They play for nothing, no looking back

That's not what it seems

Crawling through the cracks



Fading stars in the purple orange night

Growing dreams of roses blue and white



This box of limes is burning cold

Come all these moonbeams, further to be sold

These dirty rhymes are chewing glass

That's not what it seems

Coming over the pass



Fading stars in the purple orange night

Growing dreams of roses blue and white





Fading stars in the purple orange night

Growing dreams of roses blue and white



This box of limes is burning cold



This box of limes



This box of limes is burning cold

These dirty rhymes are chewing glass

That's not what it seems

Coming over the pass