Your issue may walk among fine moral spires,

But if they went up somebody else built them.

Your store is a small one, your goods have no buyers

Your parents are raising your children.

O, I could have told you, the vices wont hold you

warm in a coil where you lay

but high up behind you, seized by the temple

and bid and obey and obey



A heinous, heinous law

of an endless, endless love, that governs your

poor heart



in its velvety chambers

where fellows foul me engage in exchanges

whose ends are to put out your lights

Who know from the inside you won't put up a fight



To a heinous, heinous law...

of an endless, endless love, that governs your

poor heart



it's winter in my bedroom, I stir the broken spring,

and i have in my head to go crawling

when the hounds come around, I go to the bottle

like every wet shadow before me



Now are you angry at me, 'cause I'm no longer free?

I don't sound it or say it or feel it

But out on the street, somebody told me

it happens to everyone.

so i don't blame you, it's my foot in my shoe,

and i seem to have easily filled it.

While the thing in my charge, whether tiny or large

i fear i may slowly have killed it



Obeying a heinous, heinous law..