Love Demons

While he sits and stares

At girls, he can't explain

Oh, here she comes on ten white horses

Made of string and clay

The flowers in his fingers wilt away

A wise old lover said

That lies do not deceive

So when she sleeps, I'll leave her bed

And hurry home instead

My soul is on a string tied to her chair

And why is it I pray

To Gods that always fail

To drag that girl back through my window

And undress my face

And smile at me while I put on my chains