The curly haired conspirator Sits atop his Bacchanalian stash Giver of joy Of temporary, festive reprieve Sending out aural signals received By yours truly
The harlot and the whore A role I play Better than before When I had far too many lovers
How is it now true With freedom of choice That the only man I long for Is you? Face of exquisite perfection Lips of sweetest affection Kiss the cheek Betray us all thrice Thirty pieces of shattered dreams Await your frantic collection
It's all out there now Take it or leave it But dont, god don't deceive it This pure thing I've offered On my knees From the depths Broken, proferred To you Mr. Iscariot
