Pink Fruit Testo

I am not told
You'll arrive in your best
The wig and the fine dress
Throws me
And the pace of my chest
Increases tenfold
When the gaze you have holds
On me
Stand to obey
And the moment is carried away
Hairline of heir apparent
Disposed of pretense

A shout from the king
That pulls you to me
(Unnecessary dancing)
'Cause the smile you can't hide
Is enough to take you outside

Nearly touching, arms outstretched
We stood in a drawing room

Thoughts are scarce
There's no movement upstairs
And the court noises are drowning

You lie down
And I see your skin
The fear in your eyes At the hollow abdomen

I stood back nervously
When sat, beneath your chest, is a squid
You say that you can explain
A tentacle reaches out
And grabs my wrist

And that night is distinct
Is a horror
How does it carry on
Out of water

Not discussed, carry on
She dresses crying

Heaven elect my misery
Judging eye of history
The remits are confused
Leveled at the limits of this
Ark wilderness we stand to lose

["From the perspective of the woman with the abdomened squid"]

Garrote me sober let truth divide
Arrested winter; my hands are tied
The creek is empty my love is true
Infected angel her eyes are blue
She isn't there when she begs for you

All crested nimble false interest
Incentive fidgets it's not her best
A median picture, the lie you see
Nestling warm underneath a tree
You'd realize if you turned to me

Sleepy temper at least it's pure
Unlike the folks in the cracked mirror
I won't pull out of the sick linen
Drowning my mind through the thick and thin
And I won't tell you what I've taken in

Garrote my body or cut the crest
Cut off my head and put me in a nest
Your tongue is numb from her vicious love
She keeps it dry in a box of snuff
She doesn't know what she's thinking of

I adolesce
Default to dark art
Concerning the heart
It's false
Acrid unfazed whatever

Intoned seriousness
Intoned seriousness

It was a pink fruit
I ought to see you
It was a pink fruit
I ought to see you
It was a pink fruit
I ought to see you
It was a pink fruit
I ought to see you

The sun bared down
Ulterior, unnamed
Shapeless are angels