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Amorous Cyanide
With a passion for "Amorous Cyanide,"
An erotic perfume of blossoms,
Silently rising from a ghost,
Of the woman I wed.
Where have the twilights gone?
From your hair of golden tint,
And your eyes of amethyst,
Of autumn leaves, turning red.
With a silhouette of nightshade,
In your nakedness, as I cry,
So swiftly the hours have passed,
With a vision, I can't touch.
A whispering of eternal love,
An erotic perfume of blossoms,
As a hint of macabre runs deep,
In shadows of my boudoir keep.
Cherche le fantôme, look for the ghost,
Beneath my pillow of down,
Of autumn leaves, turning red,
With a passion for "Amorous Cyanide."
An erotic perfume of blossoms,
Silently rising from a ghost,
Of the woman I wed.
Where have the twilights gone?
From your hair of golden tint,
And your eyes of amethyst,
Of autumn leaves, turning red.
With a silhouette of nightshade,
In your nakedness, as I cry,
So swiftly the hours have passed,
With a vision, I can't touch.
A whispering of eternal love,
An erotic perfume of blossoms,
As a hint of macabre runs deep,
In shadows of my boudoir keep.
Cherche le fantôme, look for the ghost,
Beneath my pillow of down,
Of autumn leaves, turning red,
With a passion for "Amorous Cyanide."
Published 7th Nov 2021
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