You look at me, like I don’t even know your name
And you sit up high upon your throne of flames
Showing pictures of a love that I never had
Head thrown back, howling like some deadbeat dad
There are many things I refuse to pay tribute to
A white-collared man with a grudge, or a mid-west wife
A well planned funeral or some snake’s little coup
While I stand resigned, all your creatures are taking up the knife
It’s not you that I see, not anymore, not at all
When I kiss her, it’s like I was never born at all
I disintegrate inside a touch away from your cancerous mind
But she came from you and she is good and she is mine
