well, sweetheart the secrets out, there's no use in lying to you now
i've made some mistakes i'll take to my grave
we'll be two tombstones, a ways away
you were a warm-blooded whirlwind of a woman
i was wicked and awful with you often
would it soften the blow, the last laugh, or the afterglow
when we're two tombstones to and fro?
and that certain someone will come and steal your heart out from under
your nose, he'll sweep you off of your toes, i suppose
the thunder we undergo
you were soft-skinned and solid gold
a starlit sonnet, a heart-shaped sugar bowl
your second-hand halo, a site to behold
like the two tombstones, our future foretold
and when you awake in the night, and see the snake sleeping by your side
do you mistake him for me sometimes and rub your eyes,
then come to a compromise