| She seems dressed in all the rings of past fatalities |
| So fragile yet so devious, she continues to see |
| Climatic hands that press her temples and my chest |
| Enter the night that she came home, forever |
| Oh, she’s the only one that makes me sad! |
| She is everything and more, the solemn hypnotic |
| My Dahlia bathed in possession, she is home to me |
| I get nervous, perverse, when I see her, it’s worse |
| But the stress is astounding |
| It’s now or never she is coming home, forever |
| Oh, she’s the only one that makes me sad! |
| (What am I doing here? |
| She’s my imagination come alive |
| What am I doing? What am I doing here? |
| She’s my imagination come alive |
| My imagination |
| Come alive, come alive) |
| Hard to say what caught my attention |
| Fixed and crazy, aphid attraction |
| Carve my name in my face to recognize |
| Such a pheromone cult to terrorize |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me! |
| Yeah! |
| I’m a slave, and I am a master |
| No restraints and unchecked collectors |
| I exist through my need to self-oblige |
| She is something in me (I despise) that I despise |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| (I won’t let this build up inside of me) |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| I won’t let this build up inside of me |
| She isn’t real (She isn’t real) |
| I can’t make her real (I can’t make her real) |
| She isn’t real (She isn’t real) |
| I can’t make her real (I can’t make her real) |