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mimosa de valois - and i´ll watch was a crimson flush lyrics

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[verse1]
your life was in shambles, so my love was a sample of your greatness
a gamesmanship of a novice
i was never a status, so i was never enough
my immortal romance goes through rites of sepulture i have to witness
only one of us needed solace from scoring so i put on your gainsaying´s like glasses
every waltz immersed in me inner scratches

[chorus]
you made your own articulation groundless
with ignorance, you personated your unease as rush
i took the fastest turn after your, except that, and i´ll watch was a crimson flush
you told me every scrutiny i made of your hurt by male chauvinism was a crush
but your love is an ideology that scratches unimpeachable men´s cheek to never blush
you weren´t just a one injury to a knee, but every inclination´s weakness

[verse2]
as the lakes were preserved, so i thought was your memory of those months
but you took raw material from those moments
like a hobbyist´s hearts segments
but as a man i could only make you a disease, by my patriarchal hunt
it was never about your scribbling, it was about me conquering your pulse
you tossed me like a scr+p, you are the same woman that made your cuts

[chorus]
liberalism is your love letter to women being told to hush
you know every lexicon like it´s your mother tongue
but you weaponize the mastery i have in love
i took the fastest turn with your, except that, and i´ll watch was a crimson flush
you told me every scrutiny i made of your hurt by male chauvinism was a crush
but your love is an ideology that scratches unimpeachable men´s cheek to never blush
[bridge]
friedrich bhaer, the rain produced petrichor, the challenge smelled like love
the passion was on voyage between your eyes, i felt like a kid who was precocious
pretty woman isn´t just a dove
but a vulture that flies from her own dormancy to the door in need of justice
inharmonious womanhood is not a sickness
some may´s start rough
but if being rightfully held, the toughness may turn out to be the sun´s pieces
grieving the loss of what once was

[outro]
your sisters sat in the porch with kids and a dog, it used to give you sweaty palms
you stayed dogmatic until you felt secure enough to give last tight hug to your promise
was the ending right for the women who used your ideologies as a solace?
what you build at the orchard house was love letter to women being told to hush
they understand women´s worth and competency don´t change when they become mums
and i´ll watch will only be a caring utterance, no more crimson flush



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