Mon bien-aimé

tied to a chair unmovable body ruptured
a calves eyes meeting the rats cornered
and we are not angels we are dying men
in dying corners raping dying children

Mon bien-aimé, je tu crache dans le visage!

we are not a metaphor we are spreading legs
stepping on those small house spider webs

I want something real now, nail polish red as sin
I am tied up now for pleasure and I got nothing to win
I got nothing to win I got nothing to win

Mon bien-aimé, je crache dans le visage!
Mon bien-aimé, je crache dans le visage!

I granted a smile for the sake of the many

I offered the veal for the love of my creator

I accepted the snakes eye as lives cruelest load

Mon bien-aimé, je crache dans le visage!

but I could never get over losin losin losin (losin)
I got nothing to win I got nothing to win I got nothing to win

Mon bien-aimé, je crache dans le visage!
Mon bien-aimé, je crache dans le visage!
Mon bien-aimé, je crache dans le visage!

I got nothing to win I got nothing to win (Mon) Bien-aimé!