She brings me colours, white wine and roses
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And then we paint our faces and pwder our noses
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She gives me her halo and I hang it next to mine
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Reads to me Mishima like a honeymoon valentine
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She's an architect of pleasure and she fashions me a fountain
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she leads me through the clouds to the peak of the highest mountain
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We dare the heavens on a chariot that we borrow
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Tonight she is my cradle, but
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Who will love me tomorrow?
|
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Cold turkey Cindy pulls the mirrors from the wall
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Walks barefoot on the broken glass and stumbles in from the hall
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she's shooting paper tigers with the needle that she's borrowed
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Tonight she is my pillow, so
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Who will love me tomorrow?
|
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Must I sing so low to get so high?
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I can't purge myself of demons and I don't know the reason why
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My heart feels like a battlefield and all my soldiers lie slain
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I'll never be clean, I'll never be pure again
|
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She greets me like a siren and all her lights are flashing
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She invites me to her dungeon with the promise of a lashing
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And with a smile like a sunrise playing on her lips
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She shows me her collections of butterflies, scars, and whips
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With fingernails like claws she leaves keepsake souvenirs
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Like trenches on my back she bathes in saccharine scented tears
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I feel just like an actor in a play called "Dear Friend Sorrow"
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Tonight she is my refuge, but
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Who will love me tomorrow?
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Who Will Love Me Tomorrow?
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| Mission U.K. |
