Cardinal's dress as red as dye,
smells like death but don't ask why.
Here we are on the attic floor,
we could swim to sea but not back to shore.
Car, backseat, parking lot,
we didn't do much but it cost a lot.
Glass half empty, as good as full,
it's like a magnet, feel it pull.

The ink on the pages as blue as the sea,
tastes like cigarettes: tastes like me.
Bruises on a face all black and blue,
it tastes like blood, it tastes like you.
I'll tell you all about the birds and the bees,
the crying rocks and the laughing trees.
But all those words won't make you mine,
that thought my dear is worse than dying.