Chamomile lines
In a cup filled with sorrow
As they swirl, rise and burst your eyes burn on.
Ice-blue, yet warm
As the morning in winter
Feels like I'm breathing dragons and walking through fields of silver.
Spider web catches
The rays of the sun
Rising on the horizon, is it called a horizon because of the rising?
Hawks drop and whirl
It's all so romantic
And it makes me feel sick to my stomach because I'm just a wandering girl...

You're a beast in the den
You're a wolf in the lair
You're the wood for my fire
You're the breeze in my hair

But I never asked for a den
And I wanted the lair for myself
And my fire should be burning with coal not wood.

And the breeze in my hair? Well that's just annoying
The affection you lavish on me feels like cloying
Reproaches from some kind of horrible clown
All lathered and slathered in wet eiderdown
It's leering towards me, its horrible face
Lifts into a smile, an ugly grimace

And I realise suddenly
That my mind is painting grotesque scenes
Over the beauty of the one that I love

But then how do I stop it?
How do I stop it?
How do I stop it?

You make me feel putrid
We laughed when he said that
Yet love lies niggling at my insides like a blister
That I don't want
And yet it's mine
Mine
All mine
And I want to keep it
Forever.