She dances all night
beneath the stars and moonlight
living off the soft rain
and feeding a lost soul some sustinence
Its been so long,
and its been too long.
And I snap back,
so estatic.
She says in spite of life,
breathe, everything will be all right:
atop, beneath her bedsheets,
don't I see abstinence was preposterous?
Its been so damn long,
and its been too fucking long
till I've been here inside your sacred lips,
between the divided.
And I snap back,
in or out of relapse,
in this i'm so manic,
but presently estastic,
and that's all that matters.
Sometimes I fear it blinds my third eye,
but when I slip deep inside it seems
nothing matters but this,
her and I, right now.
Sometimes I fear to feed the intense need,
I can't help it, my wandering heart bleeds,
wondering: am I addicted to this,
am I regressing somehow?
Sometimes I feel like devouring you.
Sometimes I feel like running away, hiding away.
Sometimes I feel overpowered by you
and controlled by this instinct that drives me insane.
Often it seems that this pull makes me blind,
other times it seems this gives me sight
but any length I run to, any length I run away,
I find I have to push back, find that I'm pulled away,
escape to or escape from
freedom to or freedom from
either time to bleed
or feed the need
in relapse so estatic
abruptly shifting
to either extreme,
like the snap back
of elastic.
beneath the stars and moonlight
living off the soft rain
and feeding a lost soul some sustinence
Its been so long,
and its been too long.
And I snap back,
so estatic.
She says in spite of life,
breathe, everything will be all right:
atop, beneath her bedsheets,
don't I see abstinence was preposterous?
Its been so damn long,
and its been too fucking long
till I've been here inside your sacred lips,
between the divided.
And I snap back,
in or out of relapse,
in this i'm so manic,
but presently estastic,
and that's all that matters.
Sometimes I fear it blinds my third eye,
but when I slip deep inside it seems
nothing matters but this,
her and I, right now.
Sometimes I fear to feed the intense need,
I can't help it, my wandering heart bleeds,
wondering: am I addicted to this,
am I regressing somehow?
Sometimes I feel like devouring you.
Sometimes I feel like running away, hiding away.
Sometimes I feel overpowered by you
and controlled by this instinct that drives me insane.
Often it seems that this pull makes me blind,
other times it seems this gives me sight
but any length I run to, any length I run away,
I find I have to push back, find that I'm pulled away,
escape to or escape from
freedom to or freedom from
either time to bleed
or feed the need
in relapse so estatic
abruptly shifting
to either extreme,
like the snap back
of elastic.
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