My love is like the glory of a flower
That rises bold against cerulean skies
Yet fades to dust within the very hour.
It languishes at first, then droops and dies.
This heart of gold you fancy deep within
Is nothing more than blackened, worthless lead
That's gilded with the bile of your sin
And polished with the weeping of the dead.
No man who holds my hand can hope to live
Although he thinks I fill his deepest need
For aching emptiness is all I give
To those who fall in love with their own greed.
The day I break your heart when we are through
Remember this: I won't remember you.