Tired of would-be vampires? The real vampires are tired of them too.

Talk About Dying
© Allison Lonsdale 1999
Live at Lestat's, Disc Two, Track 8

We do not think of trusting strangers; we keep our scars beneath the skin
If we go slumming it's because we need the danger
To remind us what we are and where we've been

We can't hold on to things too tightly or we break everything we touch
We try to cling to life but life reminds us nightly
That we love it not enough or else too much

        Don't try to say you understand; I am not what you think I am
        And nothing you can do will reach across this divide
        Don't try to say you understand; I am not what you think I am
        You sound so innocent when you talk about dying inside
        You sound so stupid when you talk about dying

We're past all dreaming of redemption; we chose to throw it all away
Along a lonely road that's paved with good intentions
We do the dance of predator and prey

This is not beautiful or haunting -- it's salt against a naked nerve
If an eternal and unanswerable wanting
Is what you choose, then it's what you deserve

        Don't try to say you understand; I am not what you think I am
        And nothing you can do will reach across this divide
        Don't try to say you understand; I am not what you think I am
        You sound so innocent when you talk about dying inside
        You sound so stupid when you talk about dying

            This is a consequence that does not have an end
            A vacancy surrounded by an ache
            And every one of us is far too proud to bend
            So we stand against the storm until we break

We have lost everything but hunger, and hope can only make us weak
While if we let love in then love will drag us under
So we silence our hearts when they try to speak

We have no grace, we have no glory; we just have punishment and crime
There is a pack of lies in every pretty story
That depicts us doing anything but time

        Don't try to say you understand; I am not what you think I am
        And nothing you can do will reach across this divide
        Don't try to say you understand; I am not what you think I am
        You sound so innocent when you talk about dying inside
        You sound so stupid when you talk about dying

We do not think of trusting strangers
We keep our scars beneath the skin