I Linger In The Hopes Of Love

I am a rose in kryptonite, bleeding like the ulcer

Sometimes I am so drained

I lose sight of my memory

For the rose of a lover never ends

And a swarm of bees are resistant

I chase their honey away because I am bitter

There is no time for me now

For romance is underway

And the chards of my lover have gone

Oh wear my resistance away, why don't you?

For brilliant philosophies are scorned

And the gates of hell

Are coming back to play,

Where is heaven's plague? Of course

With all the brilliance in the air

A wild thing has come to lust

And the fever's ear is unjust;

Of all the riches and glory

The government foresees nothing

And all the king's horses

And all the king's men

Shall never put a broken heart

Back together again,

For the lover's reign has surely missed

And to drive is to drive myself between a wedge

Of homemade crackers

And homemade stew,

Oh if only I knew.

What unfair mama

Is love in a slain?

Oh mama bring me pain; for I am the slain

And what shall become of tomorrow's rain?

For I linger in the hopes of love

The hopes of tomorrow,

For in the streets I am livid

Oh where is France to shine the scrutiny of my mind?

For I have left the world behind

There is no target left

Only Cupid's waking arrow,

Why shall I exist now?

And Cupid has a unibrow, isn't she so lovely?

For the beauty of pain is mesmerizing

I shall die a lonely soul--

And my house shall be made of wood

So the winds can knock it down

And my heart beats chivalry

In the midst of the dead

And the man in the corner

Is dead...

They say that a silver rose

Is covered in snow

For its lightness never shines through,

And desperately I am in awe of you, again

What a terrifying composition I have composed

For the music is starting to linger

On the shuffle boards,

Let us play cards as you wish--

And deeply the man cries in sorrow

Oh what a fetish it seems

To love and to love alone in an empty house

The sparrow has flown

And the dogs sniffle to the beat of the drums

For I can only hope heaven's way;

And to all the dead poets

Who still linger on,

The world is a catalyst

For your dreams--

And I am not the psycho I used to be

Hoping for unicorns and playful trees,

For I am the sexy siren that bleeds

For the scathing beauty of America--

I linger in the hopes of love

Just to hope for love alone.