You look evil, they say, when you’re sharpening your blades
But I keep coming closer
With that smile on your face, I can’t possibly stay away
I wonder what it would cost to delight you
Because, see, I could crawl
Through barbwire and grime just for you to share your time
It’s silly, I know
Curiosity gets the best of me and you’re simply an anomaly
A little itch in my palms
A scab I keep scratching and picking
Something driving me insane because I’ll never pick your brain
You might be evil
Surely, you’re playing the part, thinking of violence as art
But your violence has a charm
So I keep coming closer
That smile of yours could very well be the very last thing I ever see
And I, too, would smile
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