Type O Negative

A swollen sun melting in the horizon
Between the sheets I wait for her to come
A living flame, impossible to resist
Burning me deep with every bite, kiss and lick
I'm haunted
I'm haunted
I'm haunted (by her)
Invades my sleep with tumescent intentions
Hades I'm sure must be missing a demon
I hate the morning
I hate the morning
>From the panes a green mist swirls
Is it a shadow of reflection
This apparition in moon beams bathed
A voice like wind through trees beckons