3Dancing with my love
Surly he must've come from The Above
Being happy, wanting to live
Never getting, but wanting to give
See you there cowering in fear
Then he leans down with a sneer
His happy voice grows dark
His eyes cloud with fog
I cannot call out for help
You're hidden in the murky smog
Cannot beg you help
To keep me alive
I hope you understand just this one time
The best I've felt in years
Being with him
But even if we get over our fears
We will never win.
And then finally I am lifted up
I much like a delicate teacup
And I am thrown in and enveloped in heat
Why couldn't my hair be more like wheat?
And I ask you, my dear, and my son-but do not fear my asking
Do you like the pies?
Oh, and one last thing, do teacups burn?