As sun and dove devour bat and moon If we stay on this road we'll find religion soon I plant the seeds that flower in veins And destine down blacklit bathroom drains Of sacraments and ends Dead in a ditch death is the friend buried Beneath drugged skin My stand become a lean verse cigarette machine Could cocaine candy consoled crippled Children cavitated the tears of flesh death burns Now a miscentered mantelpiece in a Porcelain urn but what words will witched sing While warlocks pluck away all day At their broken heartstring I took some gun from some sick hand Said, "Count to ten", oh, "One, two, three" Fuck it, I don't care And all of us widowed wives Discussing dimensions in dream homes we hide And it's not fair These affairs are all I had, it's sad I had to lie Forget it, I get it I guess it's true, I'd make a boring bride