From the recording Splendour + Misery
Kimono torn in the wind, porcelain skin dancing wild.
With every motion is the whisper of a child.
Black hair from cheek to cheek, his shadow leads your way.
A waltz of shame and joy - your inner disarray.
This dance of memory when eyes are filled with lust,
Kimono lined with gold and precious to the touch.
He says your skin is green, your eyes a gentler hue,
The many gifts he brings describe the sky to you.
If peace has war in mind, then splendour tastes like wine,
A smile may crack their lips but yours are there to dine.
Bold like a demon with a heart like no man,
Something inside you or a castle made of sand.
Your words disrobe the ear for wounds will always speak,
The foreign bodies are the names you never keep.
A feast of plenty when memory turns to dust.
Kimono torn into a mirror of disgust.