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A tension much revered I'll have to tug my own sleeve now Neutral fugue or my monomania There's my infirmity There's she My Berenice Cherie My Berenice Part your lips for me The difference is not clear Am I the paint chip on the wall? That fixture in the ceiling What's in the box on the table? Why is there mud around my feet? And where is she My Berenice I found relief In thirty two of your Pearly teeth My Berenice They say you dig your own grave, but I dug hers to If I'm going to be a ditch about it I shriek I shriek Berenice From Letras Mania