… and you try to cause love at times all.
For there’s always a heart to break,
For there’s always a soul to doctor.
Apothecary at arms - more harm than good.
More. More good than harm – go figure.
…and you are fixed on hysteria and madness,
Through the make-up sessions of course.
Kisses of sweet and absolved, touches
Of intimate and let off - you depend on.
You are in love, loved, owned… far from free.