Tiny keyhole blisters rising Pure Sunday perfumed bride Feathered pin-burned daughters running The city seems cleaner at night Lately, I’ve been hiding from you Can’t tell you what it means to Been spitting blood since midnight Been spitting blood all my life
You’re a neck braced angel Falling at break-neck speed
Halo twist, the sun invites itself You and me, we love to love Paper scissor stone we’re not alone Not alone, the sniper above