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You might not remember how we sleep in the past |
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I'll soon remind you when |
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I cut off the hand that was promised to me |
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And then we'll shake on it |
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Those stains you can't hide or the smell of his sweat |
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Are they so permanent? |
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Did you scratch your left eye? |
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Did it blink three times? |
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Or once just to reel you in? |
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On your blackened breath |
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Did he smell of us |
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To taste of poison sweets |
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I've got to rid the world of your intentions wrapped to cut like a stuck pig |
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And give me that flesh please |
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The one that talks like me |
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I really want it now |
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Baby, put it on slowly |
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I want you to show me |
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Does it make you feel alright? |
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When I peeked inside your room through that rusty bitten lock |
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You sank a nail inside of me that was twenty years too long |
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The black stockades you kept, smell of wet cigarette |
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And the sweat that just would not cease |
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I have been for far too long |
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Just to keep you here on this leash |
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For the rest of your debt |
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'Cause I knew you'd forget |
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I throw ashes at the bones of your feet |
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Now that you slay with a pack of strays |
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I do believe you're not the mongrel for me |
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And give me that flesh please |
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The one that talks like me |
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I really want it now |
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Baby, put it on slowly |
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I want ya to show me |
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Does it make you feel alright? |
