Half-Burned Photographs

She's sewed up and stitched up With doll parts all around her heart All burn up We burn love She's sewed up and stitched up With doll parts all around her heart All burn up We burn love My violin memory's on the fritz I have no fucking recollection Of all my broken little flowers And dandelion powders Just half-burned photographs And so I built myself a shrine She was my ghastly valentine Her heart I made from pig guts I soldered both her eyes shut And drew a bloody bath Sutures and zippers A mouth full of spit A clumsy spin A twist and twitch Oh Oh Oh Oh She's sewed up and stitched up With doll parts all around her heart All burn up We burn love What I must create I do not know My vision's static stereo I hear their voices in my nightmares A smell of smoke from their hair My half-burned photographs I patched the cut upon her lips With dead flies and a string of lint Her hair was just something I doodled With spagetti noodles Malice in her laugh Tarantulas in love Our poisonous touch A poison tongue Cannot poison A poison tongue Playing God Death and dance Collapsing into Scraps of sheets A useless mess Nasty fuckin' smoker's cough Heart to heart Skips a beat I'm pounding on a Dead pile of chemistry I can't get her to breathe at all Playing God Death and dance Collapsing into Scraps of sheets A useless mess Can't get her to see at all She's sewed up and stitched up With doll parts all around her heart All burn up We burn love Fall down and you stay down Could have been all over But you turned up And burned, love