Your fear of love is old
you're damned and you don't have a soul
you're feeling lovely, well come on let me hurt you, cause I don't feel at all
you're smelling cold roses, that you picked from mother Mary's garden
you got a lot of blood left in that dead soul
your fear of love is old, you're damned and you don't have a soul
you're feeling lovely well just let me help you feel, feel like dirt