---

Drenched in red and shattered rules

Once bent in yellow cab carousels

Your triptych blurred in my eyes of jewels

We plagued a triad of hotels

Faulty wires trip the false alarm

On the second night, on the seventh floor

If I feel no pain I see no harm

Your tears spilt down my neck feel warm

Even if it's pure, it isn't clean

Even if I'm yours, it isn't me

Even if it's pure, it isn't clean

Even if I'm yours, it isn't me

The candied moon above Canal Street's dead

I felt a sliver of it in my chest

I like the way you touch my head

Keep me fed on fish's flesh

Shoving sweets inside my cheek

I spit them out into your mailbox

Something in your chest that's weak

I keep my spare parts under locks

Even if it's pure, it isn't clean

Even if I'm yours, it isn't me

Even if it's pure, it isn't clean

Even if I'm yours, it isn't me

You've memorized the hands I fold

From where you buried your head to hide

You can keep what's left, the gold

If I can compromise your right side

I reversed my words and pressed

Dragged my finger, wet, across the glass

On the other side you're fully dressed

And I withdraw before it cracks

Even if it's pure, it isn't clean

Even if I'm yours, it isn't me

Even if it's pure, it isn't clean

Even if I'm yours, it isn't me