The rumpled sheets are soiled
And dawn's boiled up in a fog of poison spores
If he wanted to give her anything at all it's too late now
She's ready to open him up
She's ready to teach him a lesson
Time to be slow

Clearly, how the story unfolds
Here and now could be sweeter
She moves her thumb to the front of his throat
He lies stock still underneath her
Slow, slow, slow