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01 . An Insect Who Dreamed He Was A Man And Loved It... |
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02 . Does This Inspire You? |
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03 . Alcoholocaust |
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04 . Less Than Zero |
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05 . Gojira |
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06 . Insect Politics |
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07 . The Me Just Comes Apart |
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08 . Fuzzy |
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09 . The World Is Red |
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10 . Fuzzy (Two) |
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11 . Aesthetics Of Violence |
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12 . My Bride, When You Think |
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13 . ...The Dream Is Over, The Insect Is Awake |
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You are a garden, arching back and yawning trees
And I have come to stand outside the gates of she who loves me
And cleaving to the soul of you, my dark and mystic bride
I step into your garden now with nothing left to hide
No air, no shame, no breath, no pain
Your skin, your hips, your eyes your lips
Your back, your hands your thighs your grip
No dark, no walls, no grief, no crawl
Your sweat, your face, your mouth, your taste
Your voice, your bones, your blood will race
Your skin is pale just like your name
I watch the blood traverse your veins
Your garden is a sacred place, my bride
Your fruit is sweet to taste
Crafted in the image of an everlasting blaze
I am your groom your only one, unyielding as the grave
Your spine, it shifts and cracks in place
Your eyes, they sift across my face
Your teeth, they bare and gleam like this
The moisture tucked within your kiss
Your heart, it palpitates and spins
Your organs dance and sing within
Your ribs, they spread like ivory towers
My bride, my love, this night is ours.
Trembling now beneath my touch
Your smell your taste your heart your trust
My life my soul my heart for you
Your passion and your body too
+ Entry lasted edited by irocketh on 09.27.08 |
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