| In vogue for the mother of God For white carnations on the floor all around Jezebel is the vodka scent on my breath Intoxicating and unaffraid How she does make me smile Serpents tounge exploring my skull Salivating in the wake of the world She fiends for the love out of context Preying on the waste that is my soul She is vivacious to the touch I've heard her sing the songs of an archangel And a thousand lovers lost somewhere in the sea Somewhere in the space between us I wonder if she dreaming of the summer sun I wonder if she stares at the sun from time to time I can feel her perform the miracles of the world Our pantomime Promising her sweet pagan voice Kissing the early morning dew And the sky not yet ready to be daylight She smiled her pixie smile And slid her arms into my coat But I all I could do was speak in epitaphs |
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