He kisses her when she's fully clothed then sends her on her way He tells her that he loves her
when she's miles away

I am a moth to your flame
                 But if it's all the same
         I wish that you would refrain

                   I'm all out of love
To many times have I been disposed of
        Even though we fit like a glove

                     What's next
                  I'm so perplexed
                      But babe
           I'm a moth to your flame

I hung my head, I hung my head
I looked down and all I saw was red

I walk along the outer rim of the atmosphere
Reveling in the beauty of the frontier
I hung my head, I hung my head

I lay me down in a feather bed
I saw the brilliance of the sunrise
Dew drops on the wings of a dragonfly
I hung my head, I hung my head

I taste the sugar of lead
The poisonous white solid used to **** the mighty Mohamed
I hung my head, I hung my head

I see the children and the underfed
And I wonder

I hung my head, I hung my head

in the midst of real life we scream our most desperate
dreams and passions on white screens
with pens as instruments our symbolisms
remain and you and I
look for rhythm within
or ups and downs
and you and I
are lost between the dark and the mornings
like ships not knowing
where there is any port like the white between
      innocent lines
         of life
         is meant
fact
without an audience
we listen.