Flowers of Roses and Forks of

Of flowers and forks we rummage throughout the night in love and feast But where the sun grazes the horizion of our eyes we descent into our shadows So many well composed thoughts of themselves, but the reality shot accurately aims the abdomin always Don't we laugh of the risqué just to find ourselves beyond that? Where our marshed purple and grey face must harbor the dark side of the moon so as to not taint the purity of the gorgeous white goddess From our loves we hide From ourselves we ride the tide But always we hide where we think the cloak guiles our shame Of forks and roses we abide, just for time to trial our necks to drown with the overwhelming tide