wine and honey, lipstick and spit,
you coming through the door with a cigarette lit.
and i'm not supposed to think your death wish is cool,
but then i see you knocking back tequilas by the pool.
and i am the yellow rose, growing near the ground,
waiting to climb something.

sweat and water, muscle and blood,
hints about as subtle as a flashflood.
something's gonna happen somewhere tonight.
i am the yellow rose, growing near the ground,
waiting to climb something.

thunder, lightning, hot rain.
sweet smell of rotten grain.
holy basil, wolf's bane.
crows tapping on the windowpane.
i am a yellow, yellow rose, growing near the ground,
waiting to climb something.