With a fistful of marigolds
And the dim light is traced
Your hands are impossibly cold
If I can feel you in the air
I want to breathe you in me
Well I'm washing your feet
And I put on your clothes
And I hide all the pills away
As they finally drag you away
I want to write you letters
Could of loved you better
But now I'll never have any chance again
Though you won't, forgive me
Holding poppies and marigolds