This picture

I hold an image of the ashtray girl
Of cigarette burns on my chest
Iwrote a poem that described her world
And put our friendship to the test
And late at night whilst on all fours
She used to watch me kiss the floor
What's wrong with this picture?(bis)

Farewell the ashtray girl
Forbidden snowflake
Beware this troubled world
Watch out for earthquakes
Goodbye to open sores
To broken semaphore
You know we miss her
We miss her picture

sometimes it's fated
(We) disintegrate it
For fear of growing old
Sometimes it's fated
(We) assassinate it
For fear of growing old

Hang on
Though we try
It's gone

I can't stop growing old