This Picture

I hold an image of the ashtray girl Of cigarette burns on my chest I wrote a poem That described her world And put our friendship to the test And late at night Whilst on all fours She used to watch me kiss the floor What's wrong with this picture? Farewell the ashtray girl Forbidden snowflake Beware this troubled world Watch out for earthquakes Goodbye to open sores To broken semaphore You know we miss her We miss her picture (Placebo)