[ NOT having guitars wailing in the background does this song some good, making it sound more like free verse poetry than what he knows she can churn out. She is reading to the tune of jingling chains and little charms of the macabre variety working through his hands. The sound of a little brush poking its way through any nooks where stray blood or grossness hides.

A lot of the strings of lyrics sound like weirdly specific prayers, stroking his ego in all the right ways which prompt him to want to preen in her presence. ]

That sounds more like a poem without music set to it. Dare I say I enjoy how elegant [ yes elegant ] the lyrics sound on their own. You already hold me in such high regard...

I appreciate that.