Love of control, love of my soul,
springtime has arrived, but the air is still cold.
Love of the lies for the “love of my life”,
no flower will blossom, so no need to “get it right”.
The feel of the rain on my scaly skin each day
may or may not wash my slimy sin away.
Trust and believe, or perhaps don’t trust me… e-
motion leads to murder when it’s sewn to your sleeve.