Prinjack

A trace of a ghost is left in my sheets Is it true love when I'm in your backseats? Someone who was never really there at all When you speak is it your goal to enthrall? Whispered words in the yellow early mornin' hue The skin I feel beneath me is never you

Hair dyed, brows plucked, lips pursed, claws sharp with teeth sharper. Skin leftovers in her fangs- Does she like the sweet taste Of hearts on her forked tongue? Or does she prefer lies? Does she desire another victim Or is it just bare flesh that she craves? They come from all around to stop at her stoop Waiting, wishing, killing, to have the chance to court her. Oh beautiful Siren sing your song; They'll pledge their soul to your conniving smile. Oh beautiful Siren sing your song; Whisper your stories in their foolish ears. Oh beautiful Siren sing your song; You'll get the attention you starve for. Oh beautiful Siren sing your song; They

A trace of a ghost is left in my sheets Is it true love when I'm in your backseats? Someone who was never really there at all When you speak is it your goal to enthrall? Whispered words in the yellow early mornin' hue The skin I feel beneath me is never you