Hysterical Paroxysm Lyrics by A Star Called Wormwood
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in this space
she wastes the days
isolated until
its time for her to put on that cheap
plastic, pornographic performance
and with a flick of her wrist
she tells me that this is all there is
dear girl, how can you be so sure?

her body is a temple
but i can't wait to see the holy of holies
and whisper divine names
her body is a temple
but i can't wait to drink from the cup
that held the blood of christ

she says she needs a drink
and i tell her i can offer her more
i tell her of the satisfaction
she reminds me that she's still a whore
she could understand
but she's not listening
she can't hear me tell her
faith is not her friend

the moon is hers to taste
if she wants it
and anything else that she can name
is hers to take
a true hysterical paroxysm
but she's content with the ones she can fake
in this space   she wastes the days   isolated until   its time for her to put on that cheap   plastic, pornographic performance   and with a flick of her wrist   she tells me that this is all there is   dear girl, how can you be so sure?      her body is a temple   but i can't wait to see the holy of holies   and whisper divine names   her body is a temple   but i can't wait to drink from the cup   that held the blood of christ      she says she needs a drink   and i tell her i can offer her more   i tell her of the satisfaction   she reminds me that she's still a whore   she could understand   but she's not listening   she can't hear me tell her   faith is not her friend      the moon is hers to taste   if she wants it   and anything else that she can name   is hers to take   a true hysterical paroxysm   but she's content with the ones she can fake