| The language
|
| In the dimmer rooms
|
| Seems to represent its light source well
|
| How soft they speak
|
| And seem to be at peace
|
| With the movement of the music and the madness
|
| That’s pulling me
|
| Into this
|
| And the shades of the lamps are woven red
|
| The light, it stains and consecrates
|
| Anointing all forgotten forms
|
| That swirl and smoke and haunt this place
|
| The girls in gowns all nurse the dark
|
| Pulling it near to their swelling breasts
|
| And watch as it seeps to their hearts
|
| And beats within their virgin chests
|
| And here I know seduction breeds
|
| From wanton hearts that would seduce
|
| And grows and spreads its vines and leaves
|
| Embracing those who might have moved
|
| But now remain to drink the night
|
| From vials black and thick with steam
|
| Such intoxicating delights
|
| Would leave you drunk inside this dream
|
| And you watch them take the light from you
|
| And you find yourself
|
| On a velvet couch
|
| Tasting the skin
|
| Of a foreign girl
|
| Her eyes are black
|
| And wet like oil
|
| And she ties your hands
|
| With a string of pearls
|
| And you tremble like a frightened bird
|
| As she closes in and captures you
|
| To place you in a silver cage
|
| Deep within her poisoned womb
|
| And once you’re safe inside
|
| She might let you out
|
| To fly
|
| In circles
|
| Around the room
|
| But it’s always night
|
| And there is no moon
|
| And you wonder if you are alive
|
| And you’re not sure if you want to be
|
| But you drink her sweat like it was wine
|
| And you lay with her
|
| On a bed of blue
|
| And it’s awful sweet
|
| Like the fruit she cuts and feeds to you
|
| To you!
|
| To you!
|
| To you!
|
| To you! |