The King Of Pain And Pleasure

In the pale and misty evening
when the savage day is dying
and your eyes are dim with crying
there's a voice that calls your name.
Then the moonlight stains your pillow
and you know that you must follow
when you feel his spell upon you
and your body turns to flame,
for his skin is cream and honey
and his mouth is pomegranate
and the King of Pain and Pleasure is his name.

Ah, his voice is soft as snowfall
and his eyes are deep as oceans
and a silver bird lays sleeping
in his black and tangled hair.
He's half god and he's half human
and you long to be his woman
when you feel his breath upon you
and your body turns to flame,
for his skin is cream and honey
and his mouth is pomegranate
and the King of Pain and Pleasure is his name.

In the hour before daylight
when the stars are ice and fire
and you ache with dead desire
there's a whisper in your ear.
Then the nightwind stirs your cover
and you know that he's your lover
when you feel his hands upon you
and your body turns to flame,
for his skin is cream and honey
and his mouth is pomegranate
and the King of Pain and Pleasure is his name.