When i awoke I lay tied to a foreign bed.
Inside a house sown out of human flesh.
A palace of skin graft architecture.
Oh desolation!
I can't stand to fuck these walls.
Desolation!
I can't stand to suck these halls.
But how do I sleep when the skin I stroke underneath the sheets is
mannequin platique?
And i wonder where the girl who slept beside me has gone.
When the faces in the photos stare with glass eyed mistique...
Tick, Tick, Tick, Tock
I watch the clock for tenderness
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