Closing In

In The Woods...

Where there used to be a wax-candle
Blowing in the rhythm of a mind inside a man
Working in the shadows of a midnight land
where words were sealed with feathers on
Rough papers like a symbol of the present madness and its demand
This absence is more than I can handle in lack of a seven-inch candle
Desperately waiting for a woman to abuse me and amuse with sharpened fingernails
Thorns in modelled trance

I would like to crawl underneath your skin
revel in forbidden and ferocious sin
touch your breath
feel the satisfaction
there is nothing like a stunning piece of nighttime attraction
We would bring in some species of nature
if you were closer now
throw them right across this room
if you were closer now
???? the laws, no words upon our lips
if you were present now
celebrate our presence until noon
I feel you're closing in somehow.

Join in, the mysteries of heaven miserable, optional doors
Maybe sell our fortune to a devil on the way
Amusement that turn us into slaves.

A song about the words so commercially despised
prostitution trapped them in a corner of my life
Lines, though I know a place where they still can be written down and blossom like only spring can do when winter has been around
So come with me and the pleasures of mine
We'll walk the dawn fields, expose the secrets of life
There is no simple desire
Only harvesting of your bare fruit
Too many words I cannot put words to too many movements I cannot hide