• Blood, blood oh how you run.
    Down my arms, from my mind,
    They don’t see how your fun.

    You give me a high, as if to say
    “You don’t really want to die,
    let me give you a rush; so divine.”

    So I see how you work,
    how you slur and stir.
    Your no good for me sir,
    please don’t lurk; I’m sure.

    So I try, and I cry.
    I want you to leave.
    I need a machine
    to keep you away from me;
    please.

    Just go, and leave me be,
    I want to be free
    I want to see
    How you’d be without me.

    So you kicked and I swore;
    my sweet drop of gore.
    I adore;
    L’amour.