Mannequin's blog: "We have failed to paint it black"

wait my dear ... no jealousies
silly thing ... you can't know how i feel
come take my hand i will show you the flame
burning secrets, burning wishes ... your name
don't be insecure, don't be afraid ... i'll hold you tight
oh, virgin weakness, infinite sweetness ... that's you so let's dance
all alone
i want to kiss you, want to feel you deep
your silly skin, a tender touch,
a sign that promises so much
i want to kiss you, want to feel you deep
and so we dance
nothing ever spoils my joy of loving you,
of looking in your eyes ... i couldn't be that blind
that i won't crave for you
and still we dance all alone
i want to kiss you ...

Walking down the streets at night
I see her stumbling through the rain
A skinny figure in the dark
Her face a shade of gray

Begging here and barking there
She's swearing all the time
Her fingers fumbling with her hair
A dirty mess of grime

And she starts to cry and she's asking why
Her life's always the same
But she does not see that unfortunately
There's no one here to blame

"Heroin", she said, "Was the best I had
No more mountains left to climb
The world so slow, all my dream's just too high
To be fulfilled in time"

She grabs my arm and I feel alarmed
Her fingers gripping tight
I see her pleading eyes, so I start to disguise
And say, that every thing's alright

And the reason why I pretended and lied
Is that I don't want to kill
The poor dream that's left in the deepest cleft
Of the thing that she calls will

"Heroin", she said, "Was the best I had
No more mountains left to climb
The world so slow, all my dream's just too high
To be fulfilled in time"

I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth. And indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition... that this goodly frame the earth... seems to me a sterile promontory. It's a most excellent canopy, the air. Look you, this brave, o'er hanging firmament. This majestical roof fretted with golden fire. Why, it appeareth nothing to me... but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, how like an angel in apprehension. How like a god! The beauty of the world: Paragon of animals: Yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me. No, nor women neither. Nor women neither.