To Kill a Petty Bourgeoisie The Man With the Shovel, Is the Man I'm Going to Marry

sewn thumbs throbbing
what it is to put away
papers flashing
what it is not to say
I wish, wish all of this

a dangerous story
our eyes meandering
a venturous laugh
spilling these lusts towards you
I wish, wish all of this
i wish, wish all of this

sense what's lasting
what it is not to say
love sought and deserted
what it is to put away

and I resist, and i resist, and i resist
to wish, wish all of this

it won't rest
tell what you see
far to guess
not to deceive

and I resist.