Petit Mort

Nine bodies are one

Joining together to die

No feeling or mind

They just go and go and go

Twisting into the angles

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Bodies lie on the ground

Shot by soldiers of war

Dragged together naked and bare

Dead hands feeling

Lying together in this sick embrace

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The stripping of clothes is like the gutting of a village

Leaves nothing but the naked truth

Scars and trauma or the hellfire of napalm

Both with the bittersweet taste of love

Release of frustration into the world

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Slaves are driven by the crack of the whip

So are endless lovers

Cruelty and pleasure go hand in hand

The joy of killing the innocent

Or the thrill of losing it

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People make love to pictures of the Holocaust

They can't tell the difference any more

Images of night TV flash

A psycho hacking at a woman's face

Mixed with teenage girls discovering

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The violence of war

Is milder than the act of love

Tricks of the mind with claws of lies

Petit mort with scars of love or hate

Eroticism in Cold War

Waiting for an explosion of hate

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Hiroshima was nothing but a release

The war was the deed

Lovers and enemies connecting

It was just the climax

Followed by the suffering that remains

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And still the bodies lie

Victims of themselves

As the petrol is poured

The fire of sex and horror

Innocent virgins of death

Like naked lovers

Embraced in the act of death