Text: Closure In Moscow. First Temple. Sweet#hart.

I lay awake stuck by this fickle thorn.
I lay with you so they won't sink in their claws.
I lay awake while the beasts and the whores are
dancing in the jaws of a landfill.

Am I ever gonna let you in before I see it coming?
Systematic in decay.

I'm dying to feel what you feel now.
You've already been such a sweetheart.
And I know we all get scared.
We all get scared.

Too much head, but too little heart, oh honey:
I want your touch, such a shame that I am numb honey.
Too much head, but too little heart, oh honey:
Not meant to be this way

Lover, lover, lover you'll never know-
You'll never know, because-
Lover, lover breathing down my neck;
Incendiary breath, and still my lover is a burden.
Tell me something could you smell my fear
as I lay there cringing on your bed?

I'm dying to feel what you feel now.
You've already been such a sweetheart.
And I know we all get scared.
We all get scared.

Too much head, but too little heart oh honey:
I want your touch, such a shame that I am numb honey.
Too much head, but too little heart oh honey:
Not meant to be this way.

Maybe my seed found purchase in your soil.
It's just a fight, a futile fight to feel connected.
I lay awake stuck by this fickle thorn.
Instead of tending to it's prick, I lay, infected