Go down by the graveyard, darling;
I'll be there,
Carrying my patent leather heels in my hand.
Meet me where the headstones lean.
Wear a veil.
Come out of a cloud of crows, like a black sun.
My feelings for you stun me, always.
I am gripped with heart attack.
I fight for breath.
I wore a hussy's black lace for you,
And lied like a viper about where I was going;
Look around, everyone is dead. There is no one to sniff and deplore.
I am on my back in the decaying leaves,
Beneath a weeping angel made of stone.
Come to me, I beg you.
Under lowering clouds in late-day dusk,
Let's fuck as if our lives depend upon it--
Because they do, sweetheart,