Primitive Heart

Though the soul must convey
Some more tears to delete
He is there to your death
Burning as alcohol
Must so live, flower of love
So’s psyche in staged
Dialectics
Sneaking out, suitcase shown
Lover must have a man
To quiz of making man
This joy, pain on her heart
Smooth things frame till sugared
Midnight he’ll sing blue
Cuz he’s silly
What woman can sing
Without loving the primitive heart
Heart, heart
Loving the primitive heart
Strain, strain
Clouding yourself by seeing strain