In those lips-don't-kiss
And apathetic: Was it good?
And you can saturate me with more of your particular strain of
Bright and shining night
Such are those acid in-roads
You fashion for my leave-taking of any living
Adorned with a host of stars that ever failed to light
When we can while away the hours, our lives
With a myriad
You bleed me
You bleed
Bleached bone-white
Leeched bone dry
You bleed me
You bleed me
In crawling ever further
Into comforting abyss
And you can talk to me of any hell -
Because your fires couldn't burn me even if you were to try
Such is your dreaming imagery that
You can play it far beyond any knife-edged eternity
But please don't strip me of my skin
(Or look to long upon that guileful, pitiful soul within)
When we can while away the hours
You bleed me
You bleed
Bleached bone-white
Leeched bone dry
You bleed me
You bleed me
When you can while away the hours, our lives
With a myriad of gods, as yet, undecided
Display to me the true extent of your studied evils
Place those needles into my eyes
But you can leave me fulfilled before you leave me bled
Such is your dreaming imagery that
You can play it far beyond knife-edged eternity
But please don't strip me of my skin
(Or look too long upon that guileful, pitiful soul within)
When we can while away the hours
You bleed me
You bleed
Bleached bone-white
Leeched bone dry
You bleed me
You bleed me
You bleed me
