Don't make it nice, don't make it sweet Stop painting petals round my damn feet
Too big canary in a tropical storm Howling for what she always gets till her larynx is sore
Romance me well, with songs of your voice Romance me well, like a funeral dirge
Love me sweetly, from your septic clean heart Pretend you're well enough, to play your part
But you were drowned, so long ago In the birth canal, covered with snow
But romance me well, with songs of your voice Romance me well, with the power of delay
Love me sweetly, from your septic clean heart