When wolves howled in the full moon
I remembered I danced with your inner tune
But there was a little city I knew
that burned my thumb
and ripped my soul:
a fountain of blue marbles
a labyrinth of pure velvet,
A golden slide! but for ousted angels...
a city that took away my glory, and started this story:
The story of your chiseled face - in pleasure and in pain...
Dreaming all day without pace, on the corner of 3rd and main..
The story of your naked back - flogged in the summer rain...
Kisses high on white smack, neither laugh nor disdain.....
The story of your rebel soul- fighting devil with a wooden sword...
Reaching for the rose, what we've got? thorn and thorn, thorn and thorn ...
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