Pictures Of Us

Pictures of us in the spring
We were so young are we still, are we still
Scattered around on the ground, in the heaped
Dry leaves?

It doesn't matter it doesn't matter
It doesn't matter pictures of us
On the beach technicolor scars
And the thing would smudge your eyes away

'Kay, it doesn't matter it doesn't matter
It doesn't matter

You'll mark yourself and be depressed