17 February 2013
You Have the breath of a corpse left to rot, Have the feet of a horse left to trot. And your love is not something I sought, But you're mine.
You Have the temper of bulls seeing red, Have the drive of a pervert in bed. And say words that have once so been said, But you're mine.
You Make the wine and the bread look like sin, Make the sky look like its closing in. And god knows where this month you have been. But you're mine.
You Bring on storms, and the fire and rain Turn the pleasures of day into pain. And all of the smiles are slain. But you're mine.
You Turn the loving of love into chores, Took my pearl and have washed all my shores, But I guess I deserve it. I'm yours. And you're mine.
We Deserve Each Other. • Opuss № I