This could be our last resort Let’s cut these limbs that weigh us down The spies hide out in smoky leaves Our love is sweet espionage My temper flares with moves off course Romance misplaced in busy days The night sinks like stones in this dirty gut That haunt with the ghosts our bodies make And I swing sweet And skim these streets That hold me in one piece And dismiss these spells of wishing wells whose costs on me have been too steep