Porcelain

Porcelain windows, edible scents
Rope man swinging axe in the abyss of sunlight
Twilight dreams in an obscene dimension
Of leather heels and cigarettes
White Porsche in a Las Vegas motel
Looking through the pink glass over the black mountains
While goats run free and bats hang upside down in the chandeliers
Chandeliers

Aight, sorry, let me do it again

Matt finish roses, circling white roses
Forming a cross in this untamed ravishing yard
Not any cross, but a cross of hate
A cross of shattered dreams and innocent tomorrows
That never came
Black finish liquor swirls around his goblet
As the fat one dines in his hall with the fascists of Europe
The night was becoming morning and the smell of wet grass
And burnt cigarettes took upon them
As they marched out for the yearly hunt

Under your wings
Under your wings
Under your wings
Under your wings
There's a lonely desire
You saw my fire
Trapped with rest in the spider
I don't wanna fall
No, no
No, I don't wanna fall
No, no