For Real

Some nights I thirst for real blood,

for real knives, for real cries.

And then the flash of steel from real guns

in real life really fills my mind.

I really miss what really did exist

when I held your throat so tight.

And I miss the bus as it swerved from us

and came crashing to its side.

Some nights the blood from real cuts

feels real nice when it's really mine.

And if you want it to be real,

come over for one night,

and we can really, really climb.

Cuz blue bridge lights

might really burn most bright

while we watch that dark lake rise.

And if you really want to see

what really matters most to me,

just take a real short drive.

its just a drive into the dark stretch,

long stretch of night,

really stretch this shaking mind.

And this room, unlit, unheated,

and the ceiling striped,

and the dark black blinds....

I want to know this time

If you're really finally mine

I need to know that you're not lying,

and so I want to see you tried.

And I don't want to hear you say

it shouldn't really be this way,

because I like this way just fine.

Cuz there's nothing quite like

the blinding light

that curtain's cast aside,

and no attempt is made to explain away

things that really, really, really really really are behind.

You can't hide.

You can't hide.

You can't hide.

You can't hide...