Love, another virus in bloom
A strain devoid of conscience
Follow your head
Don't listen to the body say
'Fight Scenes like '95'
Still marking out time till the memories die
With severed hands and severed hearts
The blame trucks on and on...
It's strange
This is only circumstance
A minor-league affliction
Another smokescreen for an aberrant fantasy
Fight scenes like '95
As the heartworm cries
As the body lies
A tepid, doomed and endless dance
And the blame trucks on and on...
She works hard on the meaning of name
A cancerous and blank refrain
Sterile, rapturous, erasing...