What am I to you? A friend? A girlfriend? A sort of mate? Like Fouad and the others? Do you fuck your mates? If you want us to continue, we have to do things well. We have to have manners. I’m talking about delicacy. You know what that is, you haven’t stopped being delicate with me. Shall we do it like this? Continue, but not like animals.
For every pass Of this moon Embers wait Commune A dawn's harvest Spores Burrowing Ash Covering My world My home My loves My memories So tell me how I've come so far Repression of memories Behind a door best kept shut Suppression of daily deeds A crushing venom weeping Into these hands A plague upon a frame Growing on the inside Withering a simple sullen home
Plague upon the frame Crawling from within Simple sullen home Withering away Locked behind a door Of secrets best kept shut Crushing venom wept Right into the hands Plague upon the frame Crawling from within Withering away Simple sullen homes Won't you play Your trumpet well Gabriele Let this go Won't you play Your trumpet well Gabriele And pray that I can rest
