The cold tonight seems more anxious to talk than he has seemed in nights before skinless face and yellow heart, he hesitates and I wait All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps and it makes a firey ring Right now is the reason I carry this jewel everywhere round my neck I keep it close but still outside this is my explanation All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps and it makes a firey ring A box of love and sex and reflection its got my face and hands the lonely is yellow and old watch the cold around my bed All my stories are about the same things I find so many beds for them I find this package of tiny lamps and it makes a firey ring