But of course as an artist,
You saw me as your muse
And you can't get past
Those sick, distasteful truths
That I don't love myself
In the same way as you love my body -
You want to preserved like
A sentimental piece of jewellery.
Smoke flooded system - an intentional suicide.
My lungs won't be as pretty
As your scratch marks on my thighs.
My life (love?) for you is draining away
Like the cigarette I'm smoking only out of dismay
Because you say you respect me,
That I'm the best thing in your life
But even then I'm but a 'thing'
That you've marked with your price.
I know... I know that you're thinking about duration
But now and evermore I'll still need inspiration.
An affliction, cruel addiction
It's all I've got left
And if you hate it, could you hate me?
You're a boy,
My love at best.
Stay one more night. Stay... Stay...
So you can keep my soul at bay?
While you enjoy taking all you want
While my heart is evermore reduced.
Baby you think that you're an artist
But I cannot be your muse.
