A Gothic Love Song

Wie konnt's mich einst nur so berauschen? Wie beging ich nun den Wahnsinn Einen guten Peter einzutauschen Der mir Niemals etwas getan? Deckte man die Nacht auf Seinem Bett ab wusste ich eben I'm clicking your fingers For a gothic twilight That actually existed Just in your head. Your fingernails painted black or blood red, I forget. And your fake leather volumes jabbering on Hell Manifest decadence with which you hoped to exhale. Your eyes tried so hard to glitter. The stars snuffing black So you opened your books And you opened your legs and so opened your Heart And let in the badness You claimed as your friend. With unangels hovering like flies round the Orgy That had covered your soul, Their empire increasing And your country deserted By yourself. The bells of St. Mary call us To remember That life is without end And that gestures can kill us, Moreover destroy, And there is one judgment only. Your letters came daily In French or in German But they meant to me nothing. I caught the slow chords And dry eyes Fogging your mind. I see all too clearly now Why you could be discarded And though I could pray for you I probably shan't, Having had my cup filled up With your lies and your make-up. You were nothing thinking you were Something. And nonetheless I still write this Gothic love song, a sign to myself And the memory of my past. I still write This gothic love song, A sign to myself and the memory of my Past And a way to shut out your face.