Should I talk the way you want me to talk Say the things the way you want to hear them I know a lot of people like that They talk in words but what do they mean When heart becomes a chain, painted like a whore And I see her, see whore They cannot see what they don’t have so deny that time But there’s one thing, one thing I have, one thing I see Why should I be like you? Nothing is ever the way you say it is Nothing is ever the way you want it So don’t talk to me Don’t look at me But please stay with me “He didn’t wear his scarlet robe, for blood and wine are red And blood and wine were on his hands, when they found him with the dead The poor dead woman, whom he loved and murdered in her bed He walked amongst the trial men in a suit of shabby grey A cricket cap stood on his head and his step seemed light and gay Though I never saw a man look so wistfully at the day” I see your heaven, you see my hell Come see my heaven and I’ll show you, show you hell…