Crooked-Smile Sin

You’re the voice that I cannot let in;

You are just a crooked-smile sin,

All the madness that has ever been,

Yet I find myself falling, falling…

You love me like I’m gone tomorrow,

But all of this to drown your sorrow;

Cupid used a knife, not an arrow,

Because now I am falling, falling…

Take a pause from your last cigarette,

And tell me if I am full of shit,

As I linger like a silhouette,

Because I am still falling, falling…

If you say that you don’t feel it too,

And if I am nothing more to you

Than a skeleton with eyes of blue,

Then why am I still falling, falling?

Is it greed that keeps me tethered here,

Or perhaps the way you draw so near

And whisper such sweetness in my ear,

Like you’re the one that’s falling, falling…

But, oh, not you, the angel of mist,

Who holds all my nightmares in his fist,

The one I have loved and touched and kissed

Through all of this sweet falling, falling…

For in the blacker and bleaker nights,

You let me argue and scream and fight,

And in my darkness, you were my light.

Tell me: are you falling, falling, too?

I cannot make sense of all your words;

They are cutting in like little swords,

Therefore damaging our fragile cords,

And yet still I am falling, falling…


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