I am Oedipus at the brink of decision.
To escape my demons we will meet face to face...to face...to face... face to face...to face...to face.
Face to face you stand with eyes like the winter and a reptile heart.
With the fury of a lion and the face of an angel, you bear the riddle
“How far will a man go to dance with the machine?” (with the machine)
“How far will a man go to dance with the machine?” (with the machine)
The answer... is poison when the question... is lust.
The answer... Poetry’s a lipstick that does not complement your skin and those wings don’t mean you know a thing about Heaven.
I know our lips fit but that doesn’t mean that they belong.
I’ve sold this body to pale skin and poor taste one too many times.
They say the end comes in fire, but from what I’ve tasted...
Your voice is a ghost that haunts every inch of this town.
Tasted of your desire, yours will burn in ice.
You pave the road to unrequited dreams and I’m the hypocrite who follows.
I’m the fool who stumbles.
Grace give me strength.
Grace give me strength.
Grace give me strength.
God be my strength.
God be my strength.
God be my strength.
God be my strength.
I must resist...resist.
I must resist...resist.
I must resist...I must resist.
I must resist...I must resist.
I must resist.
I must resist.
