I invoke him...
And [bad word] to me in my dreams 
Dressed in black
He speaks in a language only I can understand
His hands are warm, his breath is hot
He is the horrible pain within my heart
My religion, my sanctuary,
My church, my sacrifice, my profession
My exorcism... My worship in progress
I have no other lover... Now until forever
He is magic and when he kisses me
I can taste him on my lips
Like an elixir
Far from innocent
He is pure evil
sinner's prayer... saint's desire
For him I would walk through fire
For him... I have walked through fire

To draw him I want so bad...
One gift I'll never have
He drives a stake into my soul
Makes me bleed, makes me whole
Drinks me, devours me, intoxicates me...
With his love, hate, devotion, faith
As beautiful as Jesus Christ
He is as [bad word] as the depths of [bad word] In my dreams I press my mouth against his
And I fell heaven... Horror... Terror
He looks at me with that look
I call his serial killer look
Like he wants to [bad word] me and kill me all at the same time
It scares me... It turns me on
His eyes are brown
His dare is intense...
Meaningful, powerful
Maybe that's why he is so [bad word]  scary... Because he means it
Sometimes he tells me he loves me
As he looks at me with that look
Sometimes he doesn't have to
I've never felt a man look at me like this
It's almost creepy... [bad word] ... [bad word] I guess I know he could never really chop off my hands
Or could he?