Ant Smith

I no longer dare to touch you

For fear you might scream

I’m not surprised I repulse you

When I think of where I’ve been

I guess you murder children

Or rob the OAPs

You carry some kind of burden

To have earned a curse like me

Devotee, devotee, devotee, devotee

Devotee, devotee, that’s me

I no longer hope to see you

Except for in my dreams

I’m not surprised you don’t hold me

When I think of what you’ve seen

I guess that you’re an angel

A perfect bleeding being

You must have a heart of gold

To love your devotee

Devotee, devotee, devotee, devotee

Devotee, devotee, that’s me

I no longer bare to kiss you

When I’m a drunk disgrace

I no longer want to repent

What, I have done in haste

I no longer dare to worship you

I know it isn’t safe

But I will tend a hrine for you

In a secret place

Devotee, devotee, devotee, devotee

Devotee, devotee, I will always be.

Devotee