We move by instinct, darling Let our hands be hatchets, let us Wander blindly, swinging madly In a forest made of flesh We move by instinct, darling Let our eyes like lepers drive The doubters from our homes, and Into the bottom of the sea And we speak in signals, darling Let our smoke stitch pictures, let us Twist in patterns, dull the horror Of a city still on fire For we are like medics handling Suicide by cyanide with our bleeding Fingers. Let us suffer Completely inadequate And we move like lovers, darling Let me run my fingers down your side And kiss you right below the eye We sleep with shadows but We never give them bread The horror, dress yourself in shame Or I will tear a hole in you, you harlot Burn your eyes, (I'll hold your White-washed bones unto the sky and Scream "Oh, God, if you are there I hold this body to your judgment-- Give it your wrath or your mercy But please pick wrath.")
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