martedì 26 marzo 2013

Sciogliti


You are the melting men 
You are the situation 
There is no time to breathe 
And yet one single breath 
Leads to an insatiable desire 
Of suicide...in sex
So many blazing orchids 
Burning in your throat 
Making you choke 
Making you sigh 
Sigh in tiny deaths 
So Melt! 
My lover, melt! 
She said melt! 
My lover, melt!
You are the melting men 
And as you melt 
You are beheaded 
Handcuffed (in lace and blood and sperm) 
Swimming in poison 
Gasping in the fragrance 
Sweat carves a screenplay 
of discipline...and devotion 
(chorus)
Can you see? 
See into the back of a long, black car 
Pulling away from the funeral of flowers 
With my hand between your legs 
Melting...