My eyes won't pretend I didn't know you were closed I can smell your breath Through a freshly painted door Stand here in your coat While I pour three more glasses of burgundy And you can lick the dust from the bottle
All's bricked with books Ages bricked with words Each mark has been stained in your honor Ground shadow staggers restless From the window cross the candle to the corner My blood and water's warm as you near me
I am not begging for mercy I see no love of mercy in you I am not begging for mercy I'm only waiting for the sound Of the morning birds To send you away
Wax is cooled; hard Sights is going past the yard In this house I make more shadows than you Stand there in your hate While I drink from the second burgundy And you can rattle the glass cross your belly
I am not begging for mercy I see no love of mercy in you I am not begging for mercy I'm only waiting for the sound Of the morning birds To send you away
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