As sun and dove devour bat and moon
If we tay on this road we'll find religion soon
I plant the seeds that flower in veins
And destine down blacklit bathroom drains
Of sacraments and ends
Dead in a ditch death is the friend burried
Beneath drugged skin
My stand become a lean verse cigarette machine
Could cocain candy consoled crippled
Children cavitated
The tears of flesh death burns
Now a miscentered mantelpiece in a
Porcelain urn
But what words will whitched sing
While warlocks pluck away all day at their
Broken heartstring
I took some gun from some sick hand
Said " count to ten"
Oh "one two three...."
"fuck it I don't care"
And all of us widowed wives
Discussing dimensions in dream homes we hide
And its not fair
These affairs are all I had its sad I had to lie
Forget it
I get it
I guess its true id make a boring bride
