Teach me how to count like in the old days when yellow was gold and we had no ideas grown from growing old..
Fold me into your slide, the pictures I own I cannot hide.
Hand me your tarnished buckle, I need to smile again,
just a mouthful...
You think we are nothing more than souls wrapped in bone but I tell you now
we are hearts, calling skin our home.
Teach me how to count
Like in the old days.
We used to be siamese
And emotions couldn't do as they pleased
And love was a heat-seeking missile, and I,
the ember king..