Another spider, I watched you let that thing creep inside of our room
You were younger and you were inside of her too
She's a real steam engine, a crossbreed between Dickens and a demon
Rolling around in a sundress, floating like a bag of wine
We were out of line
I can't hold every hand or stare into her eyes
I was so fragrant, you were funky yeah you were my favorite perfume
Cruelly limber lipstick kissing all the young dudes
I wore a necklace, one night's strand that had been segmented
Some poorly lit pearls--ask my girls from the sticks, I wore it with pride
They were still out of line
I can't hold every hand
Are you in my soul or just in my lap?
All my lovers all my lambs
Hung from a single strand
Spun by spiders' hands