Work of art I'm anxious to start, leave your stain on my lips, Mona Lisa under my finger-tips. I will permiss you to trespass my epidermis and hold fast, let's make this last--I'll carry you like dust on my eyelashes through all of my life's dark labyrinthine passages. We're slow-dancing in a burning room, painting the town red and spinning our poison onto life's loom. I'm just precocious, entirely too ferocious. Taking the bull by the horns, I won't back down, you have my solemn word; I won't settle for second place, nor third. You're too pretentious for this scene, and I'm just another grimy ruffian trying to get clean. Dancing under stars 'til the sun beats down from high in the sky; let there be love, let there be light; I'm ready to fight the good fight.