I had a gift for heartache
Kept it imprisoned between stanza breaks
For a treat, life is sweet
popped cherries and blown raspberries

No need to bleed out gold on bearskin rugs
No desire for strutting around as soft-serve thugs
We’re different than all the ****** and tools
We’re the ones that shock electricity and frighten ghouls

Complete trust is a must
loyalty too
I ask for a lot
I give you my all

*like kisses beneath the blue