No crop more foul, no fruit more strange,
(But I’m being kind again and hate myself);
No fruit more forbidden, I should’ve said,
Than an apricot picked from our Western range.
(But I’m being kind again and hate myself);
No fruit more forbidden, I should’ve said,
Than an apricot picked from our Western range.
You were not to be the lamp-like girl
And when you spoke, blood poured from your mouth.
And in every bedroom breath I felt
The breath you sucked from that ever-marching child.
And when you spoke, blood poured from your mouth.
And in every bedroom breath I felt
The breath you sucked from that ever-marching child.
Oh, how weak I am, or vain for thinking I am weak!
When you smile, institutions crumble
And I’m at home again, and really home
(Where the pomegranate glows, though the River Arax roars).
When you smile, institutions crumble
And I’m at home again, and really home
(Where the pomegranate glows, though the River Arax roars).
I hate myself again. I curse those peaks again.
And love you more
And love you more
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