Her eyes and words are so icy, oh, but she burns
Like rum on a fire
Hot and fast, and angry as she can be
I walk my days on a wire
It looks ugly, but it's clean
Oh, mama, don't fuss over me
Way she shows me, I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
Blood is rare, and sweet as cherry wine
Calls of guilty thrown at me, all while she stains
The sheets of some other
Thrown at me so powerfully
Just like she throws with the arm of her brother
But I want it, it's a crime
That she's not around most of the time
Way she shows me, I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
Blood is rare, and sweet as cherry wine
Fight and fury is fiery, oh, but she loves
Like sleep to the freezing
Sweet and right, and merciful
I'm all but washed in the tide of her breathing
But it's worth it, it's divine
I'll have this some of the time
Way she shows me, I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
Blood is rare, and sweet as cherry wine
