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If I recall it was a Friday |
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Gentle hum before the war |
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You were high and watching poker |
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And I had just walked in the door |
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You started screaming at the TV |
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Saying, make a play you filthy whore |
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And I was trying to make you see me |
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Like the way you did before |
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So I took off my clothes and I opened a bottle |
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And told you I'd do whatever you wanted |
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Naked on the floor, crying I'm too beautiful |
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Oh my poor, poor, pauvre coeur |
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Beats no more |
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Dare I say I was enamored |
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By the stories of your pain |
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You were darkened in the wild fight |
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And I was tangled in your mane |
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But God forbid you would get angry |
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I had to dive out of the way |
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You'd be gunning for me blindly |
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And there was nothing I could say |
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But I love you, don't do this, is it it really worth it |
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That's not very Buddhist and I don't deserve it |
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I'm naked on the floor, crying I'm too beautiful |
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Oh my poor, poor, pauvre coeur |
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Beats no more |
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Poor, pauvre coeur |
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Beats no more |
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Making me nauseous, open elevator |
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I'm stuck in the middle, there's nobody out there |
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To pull me off my sword |
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I am far too beautiful |
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To be yours |
