You are chains.
That don't give a fuck
If I'm weighed down
By my love
For what's dead and gone.
Tell me, tell me
I'm supposed to be
Ok with your transient
Disposition and motivation
Watching fascinated words
Fall from your painted lips
For another while you're
Glued to his hips
With with sweat
Poured into the lust
Of your forsaken kiss.
Fuck you Rasputin.
She say's I'm bad,
Maybe even evil,
But she loves it -
Every self professed,
Saint confessed
Goodgirl just wants to dance
With the devil.
So don't protest,
Say that sin isn't beautiful,
Because the pit
May be filled with demons,
But that volcanic crown
Rests on the brow of an angel.
Fuck you Rasputin
All the little heresies
Popping up like daisies
In the not-so-white
Bed sheets that run wet
With sweat, tears and
What remains of your dignity.
Well, we're all just trying
To feel like we're still alive,
Like we did tugging along kites
Through the adolscent skies
Of cerulean youths.
I swear, swear I don't blame you
But I don't pretend, won't pretend
I don't hate you.
Fuck you Rasputin.
Where are my blue skies?
My alabaster wings and
Golden halo? My genuflections
At the throne of our grace?
Knees weeping, forehead
Pressed into the dirt,
The antechambers
Of parting skirts,
My burning brow's reflection
In the sounds of seething
At innocence seduced and
Screaming out I'll never
See the throne again.
There's no home for me
In the eaves of heaven.
Fuck you Rasputin.
