when I crawl on you tonight
a likened mold of Marquis de Sade
will you hold me to his powers as I display his claim to fame
a villain to call your own
yes I guess that's what I'd be
the spectacle you keep beneath the big brass bed in which you sleep
when I call on you tonight
like a mistress with no shame
will you slide away the ring you wear so well and call my name
a widow to call my own
yes I guess that's what you'd be
a spectacle I held above all the handsome men who line these streets
willing to follow you down
willing to follow you down
as you plead with me to follow thee to where you lie amidst the leaves
I shall obey and drink the grin of lifelessness away that once swept me off my knees
oh I cannot choose but weep
beneath the heavy presence in her eyes
which to the last bended their light upon me
upon me
upon me
upon me
willing to follow you down
willing to follow you down
willing to follow you down
willing to follow you down