"And wide are your delusions
Deep red is the space behind your eyes
Closed forever is the door to your room
But inside in there lives a sound
You despise but I love
You despise what I love
You despise but I love
You despise what I love"
Figure a riverhead devolving into sandstone
Then you'll get the picture about the measure of my love
It resonates in hollow space as the helpless sound
Of unborn creatures stuck delayed in time
Or is it just poor language in air
That you created for me to share
I'd like to leave this place for awhile
However warm you're in durance vile
Or is it just poor language in air
That you created for me to share
I'd like to ask you some things before I leave
Promise me to forget your crime
Promise me eternal grace
Promise me you'll kill me in time
Promise me you'll dance on my grave
[The first eight lines in quotation marks are written by Michael Gira for Swans' song "The Sound"]
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