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I watch the work of my kin bold and boyful |
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Toying somewhere between love and abuse |
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Calling to join them the wretched and joyful |
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Shaking the wings of their terrible youths |
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Freshly dissolved in some frozen devotion |
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No more alone or myself could I be |
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Looks like a strain to the arms it were open |
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No shortage of sordid, no protest from me |
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With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean |
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She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
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With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean |
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She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
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Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh I |
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Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet |
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Fresh from the fields, all feeder and fur tires |
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Bloody and raw, but I swear that it's sweet |
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With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean |
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She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
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With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean |
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She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
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And lease this confusion, I'll wander the concrete |
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Wonder if better now having survived |
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Jarring of judgement and reasons defeat |
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The sweet heat of her breath in my mouth I'm alive |
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With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean |
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She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
|
With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean |
|
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
|
With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean |
|
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
|
With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean |
|
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene |
