Cradle

Put on your lipstick, chapstick is a better fit, i think.
As you walk out the door do you even notice me?
Calling your name!

She draws the blue-prints on her arms.
But the letters are so far apart, from you. Oh!

I'm falling faster asleep.
Cradled by loving lies (their smiles are so sincere!).
Oh would we rust if we cried....IRON TEARS!
Who could say?

Only time and ten-thousand miles away from here
(and now[will you{kiss me?}]).

And right now, you'll see, what it is thats been killing me, oh.
Take a deep breath, look inside the mirror and start to cry,
your iron tears.
Don't look, baby! You will see the cradle that,
will now become your grave.
So take a second and, put down that lipstick in your hand.
Put down that studded belt, that checkered tie, those loving lies
and look into my eyes. . . .

~Jory