The Passion of Lovers

She had nut-painted arms that were hers to keep

And in her fear, she sought cracked pleasures

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

Licked her lips and turned to feather

And as I watched from underneath

I came aware of all that she keeps

The little foxes so safe and sound

They were not dead, they'd gone to ground

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

She breaks her heart just a little too much

And her jokes attract the lucky bad type

When she dips and wails and slips her banshee smile

She gets the better of the bigger to the letter

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death

"The passion of lovers is for death," said she

The passion of lovers is for death