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And we steal our experience from an object that suffers |
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But the brightest pain leaves a shadow on no one |
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I saw you through the window masturbating to the violence |
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And the blood and the bodies floated through the blue sun. |
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And the green earth turns to flesh in your hand |
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And the ether was born in the lungs of an ancient man |
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We hallucinated at night. |
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Our mind's in the light |
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But I can't feel the body of the image which is now penetrating my sight |
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But you're beautiful. |
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And you're real |
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Are you beautiful? |
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Are you real? |
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And my body begins where your memory ends |
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You were melted from stone. |
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I was touched by your hands |
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I can feel it when pleasure moves up your spine |
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I can tell we're alive because your blood just blended with mine |
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And the angels of heaven never sacrificed a sensation as pure as the cut of this knife |
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And the wisdom contained in the telepathy of fear |
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Solidified our suffering into the droning sound |
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I still hear |
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But you're beautiful. |
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And you're real |
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Are you beautiful? |
|
Are you real? |
