Now you be the mother,
And I'll be your fool,
I'll hide myself deep inside,
Your crimson pool.
The muddy water runs,
Beneath your folds,
You won't let me breathe,
You won't let me go.
Now you be the stranger,
And I'll be the white-skinned son,
You'll blacken my innocence,
With sugar and opium...
The children were suffocating,
Down in your damp cave,
And you were the mother,
And I was the sleeping slave.
Protect me from violence,
Hold me in your cool lips,
You drug me with kindness,
So I can pretend I exist.
Now you be the oly child,
I'll suck on your breast,
You'll feed me with gasoline,
I'll burn my name in your head.
Writer(s): Michael Rolfe Gira
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