Give me back my pictures of me.
Me, you, and him that makes three.
It figures the wheezing will measure your rate of depress
and I hope that you know.

Like a bitch in heat I hope she know.
So put another penny in and turn the crank until the frames
cease to move and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of a kiss I hope she knows.

Staring at this Parisian sex flick where the characters don't meet,
the characters don't speak, and the characters are
like mirrors facing mirrors:
space always expanding.

So put another coin in and turn the crank until the frames
cease to move and the movie turns into a photo,
a photo the size of my fist I hope she knows.

A hiccup in paradise I keep you jealously to myself,
in a photo the size of a kiss,
a kiss in the shape of a bullet.

On phone lines and letterhead, I'm dying about.
I've watched you whore yourself out for one more thing.
There's always one more thing.
If I can't have you no one will.
Pushing a lover to love another.
Are you turned on?
I keep you jealously to myself.