Bath With the Devil

So I wore this facade of a smile,
Trying so hard to cover my dirt
Drew him toward me from a thousand miles
With my innocent look I lured him to death,

Sweet sweet honey, he thought my love seemed
Blinded with lust and ecstasy yet unfolded
He failed to see what I hid for him.
A drop of life more precious than gold.

He rode me like a horse in the storm.
Perhaps those were his last
He had test, not two not one
Infected with the syndrome, my joy at last.


For the love of creatures that walk on skirt, his life was stained with that indelible dirt. So to avoid stories that you’d regret when told
You have to understand that not all things that glitter are gold.

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