Wear mini skirts over their sexy thighs
Hold their heads up high and make the whole world see
Can be left alone, like us who are nothing?
I can prove
As I know a girl
Smashed between pages of a moldy book
Like a ruby butterfly
And there she is, stuck she is, nothing we can do
Withering within a story read a thousand times before.
Can you show me a bird, dead in his cage
Pretty little feathers
Shabby and no more pointy
That he himself picked out
Just to have something to do while waiting for death
Even though the voice was such a pretty one, could a bird be forgotten like this?
I can show you remains of a nightingale
Stuck in his cage, covered with a blanket
It's dusty and old
As is the bird
But you can hear the voice if you lift the cover
Screaming in death.
Hell of a heart, born pure, died filthy
Lived in the depths of a human mind
Picked out by a famished crow
Shattered by a hundred of maggots
Is it all we live for? To die next to each other
Just as decomposed while we live
As in the eternal peace
Where nobody tells you it's alright
Winter howls behind the curtains, it's almost time now.