A blue that really wasn’t blue A sign of what true strife can do My ornamental lover, you Get hung on me, I’m stuck on you A blissful light that you give off The glistening of sirens calls Lull me into your warm embrace Let my mind slip into your space We reconnect, divide in two A cauldron of that witch’s brew You drown in me, I drown in you My hands are tied I’m yours to use A blue that really wasn’t blue A sign of what true strife can do My ornamental lover, you Get hung on me, I’m stuck and glued The sun shines black rays The light expands, mountains shrouded in purple haze Demands payment for its daily trade and returns from whence it came No lust, just trust in what we make Intimacy deletes the melancholy and slips keys in the gate Love for you prepared like food for plate No haste, no waste My grip on the waist Your breath on my neck The slip into bliss The smacking of lips in surround sound like the crack of the whip You bark your demands I follow in form I wriggle, you writhe, we sink to the floor Your hand to my chest, we sink even more A hollow earth full of luminous shrooms inject peace into tea and taste drinks full of freedom too