If you’d tell me it’s real I can make an appeal To the controlling fragile child. Let me speak. He won’t make sense Until we reach the consequence.
It’s voluntary like your smile, As he quakes.
Now I know This must be love.
When you dared me to feel, When I made that appeal To the incorrigible child You stuffed his mouth with dirty rags And tied his head within a bag Pitch black and silken like your smile. He’s silent…
Now I know This must be love.
Little drops upon my cuffs
Let me know this must be love. Red, red, drops upon my cuffs Let me know this must be love.