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The language in the dimmer rooms |
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Seems to represent it's light source well |
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How soft they speak and seem to be at peace |
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With the movement of the music and the madness |
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That's pulling me into this |
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And the shades of the lamps are woven red |
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The light, it stains and consecrates |
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Anointing all forgotten forms |
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That swirl and smoke and haunt this place |
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The girls in gowns all nurse the dark |
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Pulling it near to their swelling breasts |
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And watch as it seeps to their hearts |
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And beats within their virgin chests |
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And here I know seduction breeds |
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From wanton hearts that would seduce |
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And grows and spreads its vines and leaves |
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Embracing those who might have moved |
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But now remain to drink the night |
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From vials black and thick with steam |
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With intoxicating delights |
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Would leave you drunk inside this dream, dream |
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And you watch them take the light from you |
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And you find yourself on a velvet couch |
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Tasting the skin of a foreign girl |
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Her eyes are black and wet like oil |
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And she ties your hands with a string of pearls |
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And you tremble like a frightened bird |
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As she closes in and captures you |
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To place you in a silver cage |
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Deep within her poisoned womb |
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So once you're safe inside, she might let you out |
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To fly in the circles around the room |
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But it's always night and there is no moon |
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And you wonder if you are alive |
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And you're not sure if you want to be |
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But you drink her sweat like it was wine |
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And you lay with her on a bed of blue |
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And it's awful sweet like the fruit she cuts and feeds to you |