Lyrics

I ought not complain so much I always find a reason To be ungrateful for the gorgeous things You laid inside my garden I ought not find little things To dance with in the ballroom Of the madness of the inside Of my tiny brain apartment Isn't want a funny thing To be alive and well in spring It's not enough to have a 'fridgerator Full of fruits and vegetables I am sure there's someone worse off Shipwrecked by the seaside But how's a girl supposed to realize She's actually doing just fine? Fine All the dеad skin that I grew in winter Slowly peeling off like splintеrs