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Alohaha
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Nausea
Our voices joined in a high note, now over
Breathless we fall
Caught in the hanging cords, now silent
Grabbed my hand in the nausea
I made a bed out of irony
Lie with me
And my broken bones
Deliberating
Cheek to cheek
In the final blow
I'll lay you down in the quiverying grass
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Your leg so frail that you craw after your convictions
My skin beings to pale, in the dark
I grab your hand, in the nausea
I made a bed out of irony
Lie with me
And my broken bones
Deliberating
Cheek to cheek
In the final blow
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