Last Tango in Paris

The sun sets, desire comes. This taste Hungers It slithers in my mouth then it obscures Is it called love? Is it called lust? Is it enough? I Can't run. He said This damnations forever, Until my dying breath But There will be No Lipstick, to regret Kiss then kill Find no love to devour As days drag and descend growing more numb still Losing count of the hours Preserved In this hardened shell Come take your best shot at me so I can watch you fail I'll watch you fail I'll watch you Kiss, kill, for survival The question still concedes Is it enough, or will there still be No lipstick, to regret There is No love here there's always fucking been No love here