In the Presence Of Songtext
von Jette-Ives

You aim to please
In a back-door, dime-store, motels-
Are-too-good-for-you
Kind of way.
And me?
I don′t give a shit.
I have nothing to say about:
Your tight altar girl, pervasively persuasive,
Lollypop-licking,
Catholic-schoolgirl-sipping
Ways.


You're a rhapsody in jeans,
You′re an orgasm on the verge,
You remind me of an absinthe high.
You hint of orgies and mirrors,
You're into late-night trysts,
Naked when you're clothed and I admit:
I really
(Really)
Want to sleep with you.

So, if I aim to please
Will you aim to repeat me?
— In a back-door, dime-store, motels-
Could-be-too-good-for-me
Kind of way?

But you don′t —
You don′t give a shit.
You have —
Nothing to say.
No, you don't —
You don′t give a shit.
You have — nothing to say about me.


So, I never should have left.
And I never should have had.
I never should have wanted anything so badly.
— I never would have followed,
I never would have danced,
I would not have seduced if you had not entranced.
I craved
I wasted
I hunted
I starved
I am the stuff that nightmares become
—The echo after the anger has gone.

(To Kathryn:
But light reflects from you
In a very pretty way
And I am not easily distracted.
— Led victim of the light
There's a right thing to do,
But I can′t see past the light
So, now:
There's just you...)