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(ripe 1/25/01)
She sees herself in little black lines
This is not meant to be
She finds herself in little black words
when her world's gone out to sea
She's a fever I don't want to avoid
It seems like she will still be standing
when the world's destroyed
and we could talk for hours
yeah we could talk for hours
in little black lines
There's a heart here with a hole in the middle
ripe and ready for your poison
Skin's a patterned fever
she's a fever
and you're a fever I don't wanna avoid.
She reads between all enemy lines
just to see what she can see
On the street she serves up her little black heart
Says 'The world thinks out loud, and then there's me.'
But the pretty girls write all over the hands of their boys
We stand apart while the world's destroyed
and we talk for hours
yeah we talk for hours
going over the little black lines
Read between all the lines; little colorful lines
Oh, black ley lines; my skin's on fire; you're telling me to run
but i can't leave cuz it's down to me, and there's singing to be done
Oh, pretty girls write prophecies all over the hands of their boys
But we stand apart while our lovely blue world is destroyed
and we talk for hours
yeah we talk for hours
going over the little black lines.
There's a heart here inked over
with the lines of learning
your patterned skin's a fever
and you're a fever
I don't wanna avoid.
