Sour

I listen to Crystal Ship with a candle burning,
And I see what is to come.
I see a big house in the country,
And the pain is there but numb.

I see grandiose dreams and sunbeams,
Reflecting in your eyes,
I see you floating like an angel,
Tripping on your own demise.

But we don’t see it coming,
We think its not too late,
We carry on in our costumes,
Until were stoned down by the weight.

I see you looking so tragic,
With a halo of auburn tresses,
Your pale skin and silver rings,
In one of your ketamine messes.

We stay in that house forever,
Until its turret roof rusts to verdigris,
Until the cherubs are covered in lichen,
Until your sour wine kills us innocently.

I guess we had a beautiful time,
But now into hell’s arms we climb
Because you’re a fucked up Dionysis
And what you say is wind and piss.