Besedila: Cree Summer. Street Faërie. Sweet Pain.

Stuff myself into your reason
I lie real close and cling
I'd get small I'd even crawl
For the madness you would bring

Find comfort in your tangled words
I'd be sharper than your grief
I'd gather up into the dust of all your fears
And live in the corners of what you believe

I'd conjure up a second heart
To house your sweet pain
I'd love you so hard other folks
Won't have to strain to hear
I'd become your shadow
And haunt for just a taste of your want

This sickness is a mutant bliss
It's a slow steady shrinking into thinking
I'd evaporate without your hate
To remind me I'm still here

I'd conjure up a second heart
To house your sweet pain
I'd love you so hard other folks
Won't have to strain to hear

I'd become your shadow
And haunt for just a taste of your want

More than any other could
I would love you