I watch the work of my kin bold and boyfulToying somewhere between love and abuseCalling to join them the wretched and joyfulShaking the wings of their terrible youthsFreshly dissolved in some frozen devotionNo more alone or myself could I beLooks like a strain to the arms it were openNo shortage of sordid, no protest from meWith her sweetened breath, and her tongue so meanShe's the angel of small death and the codeine sceneWith her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and leanShe's the angel of small death and the codeine sceneFeeling more human and hooked on her flesh ILay my heart down with the rest at her feetFresh from the fields, all feeder and fur tiresBloody and raw, but I swear it is sweetAnd lease this confusion, I'll wander the concreteWonder if better now having survivedJarring of judgement and reasons defeatThe sweet heat of her breath in my mouth I'm alive
