Rotten Fruits of Labor Lyrics

Sowing the seed of a fever dream

One day it has to break

The nightly sweats in a full-size bed that I made for myself

This jealousy dangles from trees

In season at all times

I swear this shit will take its grip and kill me in the end

All I can grow is rotten fruit

Big pile of decay

The bitterness poisons the root

I'm wincing at the taste

The word in town is you're selling out

I guess it's beside the point

I can only blame my stubborn ways

At least I tell myself

It's getting old

All I can grow is bruising fruit

Takes punches with grace

The bitterness starts at the root

Every branch feels its weight

It's not too late

It's not too late to shake out the feeling