At the top of the heap, it’s so pretty up there,
Yellow veins in the clouds eliciting affairs.
Burning holes in the pavement with her 1, 2 stilettos,
Ruby red lips, and thigh-high innuendos.
She speaks without care, there’s paint everywhere…
Lounging beside a gutter romance.
She smells of skinny cigarettes and cheap perfume…
A vanity mirror’s bloom
(A pollination dream)
The sunset reflects off her tiara’s rotting diamonds;
He stands over his prize with whitewash on his mind.
The spider inside her has nowhere left to go,
Together forever and no one has to know…
Her voice called the sun, and her eyes held the world.
Why are you smiling, what have you done?
Where is my darling, where has she gone?
I am the Devil’s face and hands, I swear I’m not killer, just a lonely man.
I am chaos. I am revolution. I am order. I am resolution.
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