Fleur says she doesn't want to picked anymore

I said I understand and then tear off her blouse

Fleur sings the ballad of wedding jail

I hum along it gets me so aroused

Fleur says dying in her prime would be a sin

So I treat her with all respect

Fleur says her forehead is quite different from mine

But what did she expect

It's August

And we're dying

A little day by day

It's August

And we're trying

To kill our joys

With pain

Fleur gives names to all the anomalies

That have bruised her petals and bruised her heart

She gives names to all my apologies

I guess you can call it art

Fleur Laughs when she cries and kisses me goodnight

I wipe away her tears and I want inside

Fleur says nothing and then curses the moon

May she have her wish and die in her sleep soon

It's August

And we're dying

Little day by day

It's August

And we're trying

To kill our joys

With pain