The Oncore Of The Arsonist.

From The Lips Of The Arsonist:
We have a bit of money, let us walk to the store to buy what we need.
Grip my hand tight and let us raise our arms as one.
We are the fan favorites tonight and what music our collision has made!
One aisle over; we need to just go one more aisle.
Quick, put these matches in your pocket while no one looks!
Now let us run without a glimmer of hesitation!
I know you’re tired, just one more stop on our way back to your new house.
Yes, I understand this house is not new to you, but it still is to me.
I forgot the wine we shall use to toast our applause.
Let’s just stop at the Mobil, as I fill up the bottle.

The latch of the door quickens the pace.
Let us bring your fireplace to your bed.

With hope in her eyes, she searches for the kindling.
Don’t look any further baby, you’ll do just fine.
I am cold this night and you will keep me warm.
So raise your glass of gasoline and drink swiftly.
Time will not wait for us and I ache to be warm.
Did I mention how lovely you are tonight?
Your beauty persuades my eyes to seek no further.
You did not look lovely yesterday and will not tomorrow, but tonight you’ll do just fine.

Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me.
Promise me you’ll be here for me after you rebuild this house again.
What? Did you not know we were setting this house ablaze tonight?
We’ll dance as I kiss your shoulder and the smoke blurs our vision.
Is this not what you wanted, love? Is not this your aspirations?
Why do you pull away as I wrap my tired arms around your waist?

To hell with you and all your inconsistencies.
Remember when you were told, ‘love is patient’? It is.
I do not love you dear, I just need to be warm.
Did you not know I was the Arsonist?

Swim strong in the flames of the moment tonight.
Dive deep into the embers, as I let go of the heart you gave to me.
Damn you, hurry up! You are falling slowly and this simply will not do.
Hold me tight as I strike the match and burn you to the ground.

To The Ears Of The Arsonist:
Clouded by a blanket of tears, I see you strike the match.
If you chose to burn her to the ground again, I cannot stop you.
When you do burn her down though, because we three know you will,
I will still be here to help clean up the mess you will leave.
My Father and I will never close our eyes until she is new again.
Burn her down if you must, but your matches will never reach our love for her.

My Father gave her redemption in the form of Love.
I have nothing, but I gave all I possess and even what I could seemingly not afford.
This very minute I realized I can afford it, because I have Love.
For the splintered heart in my chest is not my own.

Raise your inward fixed eyes to the heavens, dear Arsonist.

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