In life I'm skin stretched to form my body With life
We can hope to grow old alone In life all is well
Strapped empty to a placid dream In the fields is where
I belong Blistered text and bleeding pens

In life we are one Extensions of each other With life
We can find that death is on the outside, in life all is
Well, left dancing a laughing tree In the hills is where I
Belong Blistered text and bleeding pens

Venice please will you hide my face and change my
Eyes Friends aren't friends They look to themselves
Their advice is wrong Selfish Blatant On the Bridge of
Sighs a piece of bleeding art Mold me still with plaster
Joints and a pompous grin I shall die within my song

Your life for my life
Your life for my life
Your life for my life
Your life for my life

The Rialto Buy here, sell there I see a face Carletta
The Rialto Thieves and lovers, mimes and jugglers,
Read me poems from Venetia Of tired men with hearts
Of gold Of the whore without a neck So the palace
Guards could not take her head Dead My Head

In pools we swirl beyond the point of transition All
Must try All must fail
The Renaissance Ants crawl deep in her mouth,
Yea Across her breasts and within her thighs Christ has
Known these thighs before The Ants of Enlightenment
Have her moaning to their cause She chews on the
Ants still trapped in her teeth Christ has known this
Mouth before

At the Grand Canal Carletta cries The gondolier
Says, "Wipe your face, whore" I just laugh, now looking
Down The gondola's a paper swan Pulp
On the mezzanine I watch the old man scream Like
Cats ripping doves apart wing by wing Violins,
Tangerines, and one glass eye I love Carletta and with
That I sigh

Who wins? Who wins you? Forgive? Forgive I could
Not choose; and both poets lose We lose