Machiavelli's Room

When I cradle him Yes, when I cradle him in my arms Curse the gathering storms Burn their uniforms if they do him harm All my battle scars are (healed by his charms) All my dead guitars (sing when he strums) And in truth I barely notice now When he's naked from the waste down Uh-huh I feared I was close to love I felt him fit me like a glove, no kiddin' I showed him hidden things He coaxed them from hiding There's nothing he likes more than to watch me disappearing inside him Uh-huh Days don't exist (days don't exist) In a bad bedroom like this (bedroom like this) When he shrieks like a siren, I (admire him) When he shrieks like a siren, I (desire him) Sure, it's sick on the surface We're both unfit for our purposes We twisted fate and fell four storeys of fresh hell I always fall for the stories you tell Gone, the dirges through the hall This prince is pinned against me wall, he's grinnin' He's true as broken skin, I'm more Machiavellian For when I cradle him I whisper crushing rebellion Days don't exist (days don't exist) In a bad bedroom like this (bedroom like this) When he shrieks like a siren, I (admire him) When he shrieks like a siren, I (desire him) Sure, it's sick on the surface We're both unfit for our purposes We twisted fate and fell four storeys of fresh hell I always fall for the stories you tell