Crass Poison In A Pretty Pill
Your tactile eyes running over glossy paper Printed on with tactile lies of glaze and gauze They say "forget yourself, adorn with this disguise" This womanhood of smooth and tampered whores Let me warn you of their cold sensitivity They'll have you gathered in a trap of glass Is your reflection all the you will recognise? That cruel lie will stare you in the face Wrapped up in a haze and flow of bridal gown They tell your lover he must hold a gun You're the pornographic reassurance he's a man They deal with flesh, incarcerate with rags Red lips, shimmer-silk and body-bags Hairless legs against the blistered napalm burn I want to rape the substance of your downy hair In that mist a gutted child fights for air Against the fragile, mashed and sweaty wound Your facile beauty has an outrageous sound Like a glamour billboard on a battlefield At least the blood red poppy was of natures will That flower perfecting by the barbed wire fence Must be insulted by your scented poor pretence Just as I, who finds it hard to touch you now You traumatise my love with needle doubts I want so gently to remove your mask It's hard enough to find water here In this barrenness of dishonesty and fear Without you accepting poison in a pretty pill Your bondages of silk robes and lace Are the bandages on a bullet punctured corpse The layers of precious imitation worn Are the layers of history that suffocates the unborn
