At winter garden across our window
Nightmares hunt palm trees and snow
Sleeping on the rigid river, drooling
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Here under these ebony comforters,
Cold passion rejects sparks of desire
As our stereo every rhapsodic tune
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She feels nothing like a cold statue
But how frigid and dismissive she is
Her blank stare frozen on the ceiling
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Shards of untold chronicles of deceit
Decorates our room and bed of rocks
Forbidden secrets cast out of Eden
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Pillows of thorns crowning my skull,
Maybe I should have worn a helmet;
She ate the keys to my handcuffs
Rapadoo,
