Was she ever seeking consolation? Was she ever prey to the the tease? Isn't she reeking of masturbation Like the rest of us?
She learned to dance by herself Finding peace only in torrents In the currents roaring his name She learned to free herself She learned to walk without fear And with that slightly bowed grace Of the tightrope walker
She read the books of twilight But there's no god In her verse but him For whom she'd weep and die The death that doesn't die
She's no friend of mine I would have been back On my knees in no time I do not flow in her river Quick or slow For she's a tightrope walker
And her thoughts Are cruel and radiant And you will sleep Inside her fragrance And you'll get lost in her dance For she's the port Reached by chance And she doesn't live On fury and song For she carries honey and silk And she will cool your tongue For she's like wild milk