A Study Of Love And Metaphors

When you fall asleep in the evening, sans fear for the rigid darkness

you go horseback riding through your dreams right to the meadows of esteem

when the hunger sweeps the night

in another red wine blight

all my grief (and all the believes that I never had

and the liberty of not even giving a fuck,

the collusion between yours truly and the quill and the drink

will be the main subject in my autobiography)

Wake up to the sight of damaged skin

you feel the sting of my knives,

it takes you way beyond the twilight skies

I'll make your head spin baby,

you'll be there in the blink of an eye

I'll make your head spin baby

you'll be:

Dead-dead! Dead-dead!

you'll be there in the blink of an eye

Make a final wish; you'll be there in a swish

your sweet, sweet heart leaves such a cute little stain

I know it hurts, hurts, hurts, when we're drained of life

it's the sweet deal, the greatest high, the sovereign vain, champagne!

I'm all wired, wrapped up in cellophane

You woke up to the sight of damaged skin

you felt the sting of my knives,

I took you way beyond the twilight skies

I made your head spin baby,

You were dead in the blink of an eye

Dead-dead, dead-dead, in the blink of an eye

Dead-dead, dead-dead, dead in the blink of an eye

I woke up to the sight of my damaged skin

I felt the sting of your knives,

you took me way beyond the twilight skies

you made my head spin fucker,

I was dead in the blink of an eye

Dead-dead, dead-dead, in the blink of an eye

Dead-dead, dead-dead, you were dead in the blink of an eye