QUINCY
Adamo, adamare
I love, to love, but more
To desire and infatuate
Lose some part you can’t restore
Amo, amare
I love, I feel obliged
Used for friends and for lovers
So how can one decide?

I can trap my heart in letters
Latin, syriac or greek
So you’ll laugh at all my nonsense
And the terror I can’t speak
I can turn to ancient poets
But their guidance seems invented
“I hate and I love; I can’t say why
But still I am tormented”

Ardescor, ardescere
I am burnt, to bе inflamed
To love someonе so intensely
When they’re gone your life is maimed
Uro, urere
I burn, I rage, I’m vexed
I hardly focus, waiting
For the time I see you next
So in libraries like churches
Or the margins of a scroll
I write nothing of importance
Losing patience and control
If I had leapt before the fall
Could this have been prevented?
I hate and I love, I can’t explain
But still I am tormented

I tried to trap religion
In ancient language and conjecture
I try to do the same to you
Devotion deadens every lecture

Love is god and god is love
It’s all the fucking same
No grace without forgiveness
No forgiveness without shame

SAINTS
Shame, shame, shame

QUINCY
I just want to be with you
Your hand in my hair
In some sunny room somewhere
It doesn't matter where
That's the worst thing about it
Your unintentional theft
If I lose my ambitions
Is there anything left?
Any part of me left?
Anyone to love left?

Ego adamandi
Falling in love, apart
I can’t cut you without bleeding
But can’t strike you from my heart
Ego adamandi
Sharing one defiled grave
I’ve become unrecognizable
No selfhood left to save

No freedom for a creature
So dependent and demented
I hate and I love, I can’t explain
But still I am tormented