a piece of fruit for the prophet
simply skin to bear a child
gritting teeth on the carpet
making motion for a while
sweet slave surrogate
would you let me speak to you?
a figure born of the outcast
full of strength i've yet to prove
is this all i am?
used like a tissue
sent your angelic lamb
as if i'm supposed to miss you
on the road to Shur
we left pieces in the sand
we were merely exiles
escaping hand in hand
and i should stop having nightmares,
i know he's just a man
if i could stop having nightmares
i would drown him if i can
supposed to forgive
El Roi's not spoken
there's fear in my heart
that i might be broken