Murder’s just a word
for lack of something else to say.
Murder’s just a game
for lack of something else to play.

Put your finger,
put your fingers on it.
Something’s got me,
something’s got my heart by the throat.

Blood is just a shade
on the palette of your blushing body.
Blood is not afraid
of all of this internal bleeding.

Put your finger,
put your fingers on it.
Something’s got me,
something’s got my heart by the throat.

Love is just a flame
burning us with indiscretion.
Love, is not to blame
if murder is a man’s invention.
Love is not a man’s invention.

Inhale, exhale, dovetail, set sail,
nightingale, blackmail, go to jail, make bail,
prevail, unveil every detail,
read my braille, put your fingers on it.