Where there used to be a wax-candle Blowing in the rhythm of a mind inside a man Working in the shadows of a midnight land where words were sealed with feathers on Rough papers like a symbol of the present madness and its demand This absence is more than I can handle in lack of a seven-inch candle Desperately waiting for a woman to abuse me and amuse with sharpened fingernails Thorns in modelled trance
I would like to crawl underneath your skin revel in forbidden and ferocious sin touch your breath feel the satisfaction there is nothing like a stunning piece of nighttime attraction We would bring in some species of nature if you were closer now throw them right across this room if you were closer now ???? the laws, no words upon our lips if you were present now celebrate our presence until noon I feel you're closing in somehow.
Join in - the mysteries of heaven miserable, optional doors Maybe sell our fortune to a devil on the way Abuusement that tunr us into slaves.
A song about the words so commercially despised prostitution trapped them in a corner of my life Lines, though I know a place where they still can be written down and blossom like only spring can do when winter has been around So come with me and the pleasures of mine We'll walk the dawn fields, expose the secrets of life There is no simple desire Only harvesting of your bare fruit Too many words I cannot put words to too many movements I cannot hide