Clarity lost out to desire, and I married the madness in her eyes.
A ceremony with a serried edge is the price to fly in a cage of wire.
Displaying the scars where my hands were tied, martyr to sinner in record time, while she took the orange from the autumn sky, so sublime.
So we said goodbye.
What's the price to fly in a cage of wire?
Boys spin by on a mobile inside her knowing ambivalent mind, but isn't this one more alive? Where am i?
And where's my right mind?
Outside of the aviary tonight, would I still fly?
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