| Zipping Cupid in a body bag well-worn
|
| Next to the mausoleum he was born in
|
| Picking up the pieces of this gory glory of it all
|
| From eve to morn, for Eve to mourn
|
| Have no fear
|
| There are wounds that are not meant to heal
|
| And they sing, «In Venere veritas»
|
| Come inside
|
| Let the fire burn you alive and sing, baby, sing
|
| There are wounds that are not meant to heal at all
|
| In Venere veritas
|
| Let’s fall apart together now
|
| There is a method to our sadness
|
| As we drag the mirror ball and chain
|
| Through the twilight again
|
| Dressed up in shame
|
| Have no fear
|
| There are wounds that are not meant to heal
|
| And they sing, «In Venere veritas»
|
| Come inside
|
| Let the fire burn you alive and sing, baby, sing
|
| There are wounds that are not meant to heal at all
|
| In Venere veritas
|
| We are begging for a reflection from
|
| An unshuttered heart to
|
| Blind and chase us over the edge
|
| Have no fear
|
| There are wounds that are not meant to heal
|
| And they sing, «In Venere veritas»
|
| Come inside
|
| Let the fire burn you alive and sing, baby, sing
|
| There are wounds that are not meant to heal at all
|
| In Venere veritas
|
| These are the wounds that are not meant to heal at all
|
| Let’s fall apart together now |