when I crawl on you tonight   a likened mold of Marquis de Sade   will you hold me to his powers as I display his claim to fame   a villain to call your own   yes I guess that's what I'd be   the spectacle you keep beneath the big brass bed in which you sleep      when I call on you tonight    like a mistress with no shame   will you slide away the ring you wear so well and call my name   a widow to call my own   yes I guess that's what you'd be   a spectacle I held above all the handsome men who line these streets      willing to follow you down   willing to follow you down      as you plead with me to follow thee to where you lie amidst the leaves    I shall obey and drink the grin of lifelessness away that once swept me off my knees   oh I cannot choose but weep    beneath the heavy presence in her eyes   which to the last bended their light upon me      upon me   upon me   upon me      willing to follow you down   willing to follow you down   willing to follow you down   willing to follow you down