Ambience of this song is second to non, post punk junkie world view. Dark, miserable, comforting, aesthetically ideal. This song represents a genre and subculture like no other. \n\nStranger than kindness\n- why would anyone give you something?\nWet hand from the volcano\n- child birth as an act of giving.\n\nYour map of desire\nBurned in your flesh\n- the criss-cross scars of an addicts arm\n\nA strange lit stair\nAnd find a rope hanging there\n- like a moth drawn to the light, leads to a tourniquet for your arm. Alludes to the proximity to death\n\nKeys rain like heaven\'s hair\n- foils, needless, it\'s unclear to me.\n\nWe sit at the gate and scratch\n- like dogs or beggars, scratching from heroin withdrawal.\n\nThe gaunt fruit of passion\nDies in the light\n- disgust, ugliness, impotence, degeneration.\n\nYou hold me so carelessly close\nTell me I\'m dirty\nI\'m a stranger\nI\'m a stranger to kindness\n- epitomizes the relationship between junkies
Ambience of this song is second to non, post punk junkie world view. Dark, miserable, comforting, aesthetically ideal. This song represents a genre and subculture like no other. \n\nStranger than kindness\n- why would anyone give you something?\nWet hand from the volcano\n- child birth as an act of giving.\n\nYour map of desire\nBurned in your flesh\n- the criss-cross scars of an addicts arm\n\nA strange lit stair\nAnd find a rope hanging there\n- like a moth drawn to the light, leads to a tourniquet for your arm. Alludes to the proximity to death\n\nKeys rain like heaven\'s hair\n- foils, needless, it\'s unclear to me.\n\nWe sit at the gate and scratch\n- like dogs or beggars, scratching from heroin withdrawal.\n\nThe gaunt fruit of passion\nDies in the light\n- disgust, ugliness, impotence, degeneration.\n\nYou hold me so carelessly close\nTell me I\'m dirty\nI\'m a stranger\nI\'m a stranger to kindness\n- epitomizes the relationship between junkies