Though this is all you'll ever get
It would be a strange delight
No eyes, no nose, no mind
The grey light of Porto stay with you
Oh, how can you love a tiny bug impressed
by the night when you cut yourself?
save me, save me
Your body rotten as the last melon on the vine
Pull your shirt down
Save me, save me
Press my thumb onto your tongue
Hand a knife up to me
No mouth no neck no rest
The white poem of self hate stays with you
Even though you know a chance to cut
Is still a chance to cure
Pull your legs apart
save me save me
Your body doomed as the last apple on the tree
So let me hurt you
Save me, save me