As long as the kitchen tap works,
bring her a glass of water before bed when she has forgotten.
When the tap sputters,
- and oh it will -
talk through the directions to get it started up again.

The nightly water will nourish things to grow:
stars in your eyes,
oceans of confessions spilling from her mouth, leaking from the kitchen tap,
flowers in the stomach of your love.

Remember, Brother,
that all of these things are beautiful,
and even though you live in a house with a broken tap,
you have the stars and the ocean and the flowers
to love.
If the dripping drives you crazy,
let it be crazy for her.
Don't lose her over a broken kitchen tap.

His eyes glow red with hatred,
and it's the most passionate gesture you've ever shared.
Stronger than his hands, rougher than his kisses, he'll push you back again and again.

When she laughs, it's like thunder,
and you're falling from her lips like rain -
You never cared much for puddle-jumping anyways.

Everyone moves on so quickly,
but you hold on even though you're walking home alone.
Breathe in a stranger's scent at midnight, just to let go.

I have a coffin full of memories
Love of death and morbid curiosities
Grave full of dirt and lifeless bones
Not cold or dark enough to be home
Pale and lifeless, limp and dead
Thoughts of eternal night fill my head

A loaf of bread
A cup of win
Feast of the ******
So divine
Corpses rot
In open graves
Food for crows
The end of days
Hourglass broken
Times spilt sand
Famine and pestilence
Cover the land
The fires burn high
Mother Earth moans
Her children all dead
She's covered with their bones
Opens wounds
Never healed
Mothers last breath
Our doom sealed