The cold tonight seems more anxious to talk 



than he has seemed in nights before 



skinless face and yellow heart, he 



hesitates and I wait 



All my stories are about the same things 



I find so many beds for them 



I find this package of tiny lamps 



and it makes a firey ring 



Right now is the reason I carry this jewel 



everywhere round my neck 



I keep it close but still outside 



this is my explanation 



All my stories are about the same things 



I find so many beds for them 



I find this package of tiny lamps 



and it makes a firey ring 



A box of love and sex and reflection 



its got my face and hands 



the lonely is yellow and old 



watch the cold around my bed 



All my stories are about the same things 



I find so many beds for them 



I find this package of tiny lamps 



and it makes a firey ring