The Violet stems of strangling premonitions You said something in your sleep and turned toward the wall A second skin of sweat in a thickening snowstorm of horrible words And I am sure they are not mine I'll take you to terrible parties where nothing but angst is served Exploding match head gossips You're not there when the smoke clears the room Suicide not written in lipstick Badly spelt apology You're singing songs to your vodka "There's no one but you and me" Above your head a girl on a tightwire is holding a parasol She dances in the gloom She's got a smile and no expectations And tricks up her skirt we're sure you'll adore…. Since when has there been a way out of the trap we set for you? And you thought that you knew us.
