---

A home removed, a life resumed right here.
The Priest and the Rosary,
The book and the bond between he and me has long since broken.
A boy who's grown, too short to see,
A tale unfold, too tall to be.
A life once lived behind closed doors,
The irony of the pensive whore

Touch, taste,
Feel it ripping me down.
Reprise, two times, the Dime.
Burn it to the ground.

The inquiry of Ms. Terri,
The expiry of misery,
The table turns, the sun along,
The riverbed, and he's alone.
Her object of affection,
Conflicted by convictions of indecency, sorority,
Corrupted by impropriety.
The cavalier, she hopes of him,
In dissonance with experience,
The boy who grows, with knife in hand,
To fend for her, becomes a man
While she plays fake affection,
And carefully lacks objection,
To her gentleman caller's twisted desire.

Touch, taste,
Feel it ripping me down.
Reprise, two times, the Dime.
Burn it to the ground.

We dance around the room,
My love, I'll carry you,
And I'll teach you how to treat that Leading lady that you'll meet.
We dance around the truth, my dear
I lie for you, and when I lie down, I'm simply lying to them too

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