Here is the angel of the worlds' desire
Placed on trial
To hide in shrouded alle y silhouettes
With cigarette coiled
To strike at passing voices
Dark and suspect
Here is the howling ire
Here is the sacred face of rendezvous
In subway sour
W hose grand delusions prey
Like intellect in lunatic minds
Intent and focused on
The long thin matches
To light the howling fire
No, no, not me
Burn, I don't wa nna burn
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