8.Only Death
Through all that frantic summer sex, ／ well, you could summarize
my bones, ／ and yeah, we probably should've guessed ／ those
months were loans. ／／ And it was right when winter peaked ／ when
we were screaming in the streets. ／ We had no pity for the weak,
／ but, damn, we're weak. ／／ So you shot up in bed at night. ／ I
kept my eyes closed while you packed. ／ I thought you'd lose
your appetite ／ when it bit back. ／／ But you were singing
Wicked Game. ／ I'd never felt such brutal flames. ／ We swore
that only death could make us tame, ／ and now we're tame.
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