Sirens

Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in As she lies on the rocks It's nature she mocks With her skin of silk Balmed with honey and milk I'll approach her cliffs Movement like hieroglyphs I'll sink down to her riff For a single whiff Majestic but poisonous Villainous yet harmless Ambigue to the bone Disown disown With my salted soul And my pickled skin See I dozed, overdosed And went over the rim Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in And the sweet taste of forbidden fruit Soon becomes sour And the heat and haste of forgotten youth Can come as a cold shower Months awake won't go to bed No matter what's the hour So sirens sing me on the rocks To withstand not within my power I see the girls with the curls in their hair I see the girls wearing pearls and I stare In a waking state things might turn out to be a nightmare But you with your flair make it easy to bear Beauty and delicacy I head for the epiphany But what I find just leaves me dry and unsatisfied Bronze on gold and gold on red Drag me down to your ocean bed Sing your air and reel me in The sweets of sin will soon sink in Cradle me now spontanous host I'll admit to my foul Find me on the coast I'll be biased by beauty And highly esteemed asthetics Blinded and bulged The watchful eye of the erie ethics My degracing locus is the fading focus Of the formidable and factical fracturing of my frames A roach to be squashed Or poached and gracefully hunted The outcame stays the same Yet the grace is what I wanted