A Gothic Love Song

I'm clicking your fingers for a gothic twilight
 that actually existed just in your head
 your fingernails painted black
 or bloodred
 I forget
 And your fake-leather volumes
 jabbering on hell
 manifest decadence was what you hoped to exhail
 your eyes tried so hard to glitter
 A star-snuffing black
 so you opened your books
 and you opened your legs
 and so opened your heart
 and let in the badness
 you claimed
 as your friend
 with un-angels hovering
 like flies round the orchard
 that had covered your soul
 their empire increasing
 and your country
 deserted by yourself
 The bells of St. Mary call us to remember
 that life is with end
 and the gestures can kill us
 moreover destroy
 and there is one jugdement only
 Your letters came daily
 in French or in German
 but they meant to me nothing
 I caught the slow cords
 and dry ice fogging your mind
 I see all too clearly now
 why you should be discarded
 and though I could pray for you
 I probably shan't
 having had my cup filled up
 with your lies
 and your makeup
 you were nothing
 thinking you're something
 And nonetheless I still write this gothic lovesong
 a sign to myself
 and the memory of my past
 I still write this gothic lovesong
 and the memory of my past
 and a way to shut out your face