You and your lips

waiting there

like a new Zion

I sit patiently, a Stephen stoned

for the good of a God

the martyr of the office hour

but honey we both know

I'm dying to touch you

I'm dying to die for you

you and your fine black hair

you and your Asiatic eyes

you and your body of bending branches

playing as a siren before me

playing as a sailor,

it's almost too much some times

This another sweet love story,

this another romance for the year

this another woman and the same hungry man

who always wants what he cannot have,

but I have you now,

so what happens next?

Music plays,

the ladies of the court dab cheap tears and look on fondly,

we are to dance I guess,

like this,

our bodies bonded and our eyes alight

like faded aristocracy

your caste and mine

vieing for the crown of Elegance

but fuck it,

you're beautiful in rags and ashes honey,

you're beautiful sad and happy,

and when you held me,

I didn't need anything else

When you held me,

I didn't need anything else

at all