You called my head "Madness"
when it's name was "Desire"
And you wore my skin for safety from all you'd thrown at my thought.

But I was taught,
'never surrender under focused fire,
just move out of the way,
so you don't get shot.'

With my dry bones beneath you,
you sought fire from the start.
You were a thief with a bullet
shaped like a heart.

And with brutal precision,
you aimed beneath your morality,
and no wishful decision
could have torn me from reality.

I held purpose and purity,
things I wanted to save for Sam.

But you sang my song for me,
and with swift hips,
and a good grip,

you decided who I am.