Venusian Tempest.
I keep my heart locked away
in a rusty tin box
incase your eyes go astray
and you pluck the moon from
the stars for me.
Love, love, sweet love,
master of us all.
You make us peasants yearn
for a life beyond our own
and yet we will never have.
Damn my heart and my veins for
this dastardly infatuation.
I'm working out the chemistry that
I need to stop endlessly
to be, to be, to be or not to be?
I love you, darling that much I know
but I know that much it don't show
and you don't love me at all
do you do you do you, no.
Love, love, my words transcend
all the mouths of mortal men
and should our paths cross
on some snow-blazen night,
I'll compensate for the time lost
and share my crimson delight.
Scattered voices in my dreams
should tease my mind to live
beyond it's terrestial measures.
But all the constellations in the sky
would fall to Earth and burn
if you ever knew my name.
Alas! Mercy please, ma belle dame.
Thou art not with child yet yet yet
my blood seems to be afore with
no barren urges of feveres of the
older woman. Such as would make his
head turn in dismay. Alas, alas!
Venusian tempest, playing on my thoughts
would not make such unachievable dreams.
Oh, my Muse inspirata!
Destiny! Thy name in the stars!
I dream of being a bride - I do, I do
and the kisses are heavy, lead-laden
and only my heart knows the poison.
I dream of being an adventurer of
my truest personality: not this
persona, not this.
I want no more of this.
I want the world to sparkle like
my eyes did when I walked in the fields.
Snow blindness was magnificent,
little beams of light that astronauts see
as cosmic rays pass through their eyes i
n orbit. To experience that would be glorious.
Since, oh since! My God, my love is not controlled
I would forgo everything to remain alive
to fulfill those dreams for a chanced moment.
Take my heart, boy-child. Take my
blood for ice and my milk for bile.
Lovers' embraces are worth a
life of hell, worth a life of hell.
Thee, thee, oh what desire
in the light of day, such dismay
no more no more no more should I
do this, I am not a teenager
yet my hormones are afire
with this frustrated desire.
Love, love you are a curse and
madness's bastard child.
in a rusty tin box
incase your eyes go astray
and you pluck the moon from
the stars for me.
Love, love, sweet love,
master of us all.
You make us peasants yearn
for a life beyond our own
and yet we will never have.
Damn my heart and my veins for
this dastardly infatuation.
I'm working out the chemistry that
I need to stop endlessly
to be, to be, to be or not to be?
I love you, darling that much I know
but I know that much it don't show
and you don't love me at all
do you do you do you, no.
Love, love, my words transcend
all the mouths of mortal men
and should our paths cross
on some snow-blazen night,
I'll compensate for the time lost
and share my crimson delight.
Scattered voices in my dreams
should tease my mind to live
beyond it's terrestial measures.
But all the constellations in the sky
would fall to Earth and burn
if you ever knew my name.
Alas! Mercy please, ma belle dame.
Thou art not with child yet yet yet
my blood seems to be afore with
no barren urges of feveres of the
older woman. Such as would make his
head turn in dismay. Alas, alas!
Venusian tempest, playing on my thoughts
would not make such unachievable dreams.
Oh, my Muse inspirata!
Destiny! Thy name in the stars!
I dream of being a bride - I do, I do
and the kisses are heavy, lead-laden
and only my heart knows the poison.
I dream of being an adventurer of
my truest personality: not this
persona, not this.
I want no more of this.
I want the world to sparkle like
my eyes did when I walked in the fields.
Snow blindness was magnificent,
little beams of light that astronauts see
as cosmic rays pass through their eyes i
n orbit. To experience that would be glorious.
Since, oh since! My God, my love is not controlled
I would forgo everything to remain alive
to fulfill those dreams for a chanced moment.
Take my heart, boy-child. Take my
blood for ice and my milk for bile.
Lovers' embraces are worth a
life of hell, worth a life of hell.
Thee, thee, oh what desire
in the light of day, such dismay
no more no more no more should I
do this, I am not a teenager
yet my hormones are afire
with this frustrated desire.
Love, love you are a curse and
madness's bastard child.