That's the Kind of Fruit That You Leave on the Vine

by Nick Jaina

I sat so stiff and quiet
a flower framed by the LA riots
I sang in the wrong chapel
I found the wrong worm when I ate the wrong apple

that's why I wear my wallet chain
that's why I sing and never want to be sung again
that's why I wear my wallet chain
that's why I sting and never want to be stung again

that's the kind of fruit that you leave on the vine

our words were so sharp and reckless
I stared at the cross that you had on your necklace
my thoughts were yards above you
I was so aimless when I thought that I loved you

that's why I wear my wallet chain
that's why I swing and never want to be swung again
that's why I wear my wallet chain
that's why I spring and never want to be sprung again

that's the kind of fruit that you leave on the vine

I begged in the king's palace
but all of the folks there, their ears are so callous
I gave to the scam so gladly
I gave and I gave but they wouldn't have me

that's why my words are all in flames
that's why I move and yet my address still stays the same
that's why my words are all in flames
that's why I can't afford to be in your arms again

that's the kind of fruit that you leave on the vine

© 2008 Nick Jaina