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From your chair, my narrative tonight |
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Is your dickless cousin, brother, father, pet, friend, husband or wife |
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A lavender scent |
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A bone-orchard of hearts seems to surround you |
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As you stare each gift horse straight in the mouth |
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Stare my arrow down |
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I was invited, I was called out to watch you frolic |
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And dance |
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Oh, I buried my head in my hands |
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I buried my heart there in the sand |
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I was cock-blocked, cured, encharmed |
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I was ferociously put upon until it was clear |
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I should not keep on, I'll just creep on creepin' on |
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Yes I will, I'll not keep on |
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I'll just creep on creepin' on |
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Fell out of this station to levitate your bed |
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And move her hair on to my chest |
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Exposing her neck and I tear through |
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Put you into my arms |
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And my stomach dropped as you shifted me off to stop |
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The ectoplasm coiled like a hovering halo of smoke |
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And our beloved invention |
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Is conjured each night in your throat |
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Oh, I buried my head in my hands |
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I buried my heart there in the sand |
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I was cock-blocked, cured, encharmed |
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I was ferociously put upon until it was clear |
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I should not keep on, I'll just creep on creepin' on |
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Yes I will, I'll not keep on |
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I'll just creep on creepin' on |
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Or do I try one more time? |
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No, I'll not keep on |
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I'll just creep on creepin' on |
