I watch the work of my kin bold and boyfulToying somewhere between love and abuseCalling to join them the wretched and joyfulShaking the wings of their terrible youthsFreshly dissolved in some frozen devotion
No more alone or myself could I beLooks like a strain to the arms it were open
No shortage of sordid, no protest from me
[Chorus]With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so meanShe's the angel of small death and the codeine sceneWith her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and leanShe's the angel of small death and the codeine sceneFeeling more human and hooked on her flesh I
Lay my heart down with the rest at her feetFresh from the fields, all feeder and fertileIt
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