Cold Bed

The cold tonight seems more anxious to talk Than he has seemed in nights before Skinless face and yellow heart, he Hesitates and I wait All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps And it makes a firey ring Right now is the reason I carry this jewel Everywhere round my neck I keep it close but still outside This is my explanation All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps And it makes a firey ring A box of love and s*x and reflection Its got my face and hands The lonely is yellow and old Watch the cold around my bed All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps And it makes a firey ring