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I sit queasy, jittered, uneasy. |
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The toll that looms, the loss I dread. |
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I buckle when my judge clutches, |
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Questioning my treatment of an ego underfed. |
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Bulbs of passion, bulbs of passion. |
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Place it here on the bureau, |
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Let the interests rip apart the understood. |
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No one's satisfied with merely a cut, |
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So they sabotage their own livelihood. |
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The feeble structure is teetering, but intact. |
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The parts all function but the fuse is lit. |
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Teeth scrape on the last remaining fossil. |
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I wanna crumble but instead I slit. |
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And hold it in my hand, but they're sweating. |
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Trained for now, but soon forget. |
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The tears are flowing from the love in her eyes, |
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The hated feeling gonna eat me alive. |
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Bulbs of passion, bulbs of passion. |
|
Bulbs of passion, bulbs of passion. |
