Love is made of art and brokenness Like a candle it illuminates the heart's darkness We are bearing seeds of tiny metal particles As if we were made from diamonds And also some dusty old articles
We are often lonely and rather lustful of our neighbors And so full of distrust that we sometimes envision That perfection was indeed a poisonous arrow to begin with And our sorrow is so desperate to be touched That we are quite glad to confess our collective unrest Both today and again tomorrow, if you'd really like us too
And tonight i will beg for you to bless me And if we are alive I know that you'll caress me You are wise yet also young and beautiful With a sultry body and a voice that's in between **** and whiny When your luscious mouth pouts its quite beyond the ordinary And even if there are some other girls out there That some people would say are rather more inviting
For though our love is but tiny specks of lightning Its impossible to assume that we're making A rather large show out of nothing You see we are really melodramatically quite intact Like abstract paintings positioned a little too precisely Our trimmed and trembling figures Have been financed by constant neglect more than adequately So we attract the attention of only the most deplorable of agents Yet thankfully due to our full and constant immersions in urgency We are still flourishing in the graveyards and basements categories And have you heard of the band, The Entitled Undead I expect they may become a permanent collective in your head someday
Please correct me if I'm wrong But I know I’ve heard you sing this song before And I adore the morning's silent symphony When hundreds of bees are as bright As a canopy of sunflowers Leaning into the trees like fallen buffalo We dream of Navajo sunsets And isolated islands embedded In a sea of convulsive incoherence