At the crack of the evening In a house coloured charcoal I find you waiting unaware Of the beauty to behold My darling breathing Wearing smoke upon her breast Just a word from her lips and my heart it runs To the outskirts of its nest So my little queen What shall we talk about tonight? Dead things or dreams? Or the stars up above That are shining down on us? What to say What to do When I'm standing there and the consequence is you At the end of the evening In a house coloured charcoal I find I'm hoping unaware That there's more than nothing And the night is still young I can't seem to get my dick to cum It's defending my pride from what it knows is to come Which I knew to begin And that I've now begun What to say What to do As I'm standing there I wish That the consequence Weren't you