I take this gun out of mouth and point it right at you
I take this gun out of mouth and point it right at you

licking warm blood - off of soft lips
caressing the cold - stiffened idea of love
inhaling her beauty - her encompassing scent
soft rain - drowns out the light
lightly pressing - lustful fingertips
upon her lips
ice cold lips - that seem to whisper back
sweetened songs of seduction - stop

shallow pools of paling blue - reside in her eyes
slowly fading, being washed away - by warm tears
so slow, so quiet
wash away the dried blood on her lips

wash(ing) away - the memories - of his cold embrace x 2

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