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The Hidden Cameras
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That's When The Ceremony Starts
The spark in his eye was sign he was alive
I cleaned his feet to be complete
I drank from the wine that came from inside
The heart of his meat and the splurge of his sweet
That's when the ceremony starts
I hold the cup to my breast as he wets my neck
There's a book and a blade then to alternate
Think of the wind in his eyes and of suicide
With poppers blind, it's wedged inside
I beg and plead to be underneath
The man with bread who wakens me
He curls his breath and turns the dead
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It winds inside to fertilize
That's when the ceremony starts
With a wreath and a sigh and a veil and a thigh
The comfort brief, impure, and sweet
To burn incense and break the bread
With honey spread, his warmth, his chest
He blushes and bleeds, he breathes then feeds
It was the spark in his eye that was sign he'd survived
That's when the ceremony starts
It was the spark in his eye that was sign he'd survived
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