The stranger in your eye
Beckons, "Closer, closer."
I've seen you a thousand times
But still it hurts, this hurts.
I know your most hideous secrets;
Oh you never had to tell.
It's not that you couldn't keep them;
It was just that I have everything to sell.
And to the devil, for everything, myself I sold.
Just so you could be, more than anything, anything but cold.