She seems dressed in all the rings… of past fatalities
So fragile, yet so devious – she continues to see
climatic hands that press her temples and my chest
Enter the night that she came home – forever


She is everything and more, the solemn hypnotic
My dahlia, bathed in possesion – she is home to me
I get nervous, perverse, when I see her, it’s worse
But the stress is astounding
It’s now or never, she’s coming home – forever

Oh… She’s the only one that makes me sad

Hard to say what caught my attention
Fixed and crazy – aphid attraction
Carve my name in my face – to recognize
Such a pheromone cult to terrorize

I won’t let this build up inside of me…

I’m a slave and I am a master
No restraints and unchecked collectors
I exist to my need – to self-oblige
She is something in me – that I despise

I won’t let this build up inside of me…

She isn’t real – I can’t make her real.

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