Diamonds in the Dross

My feet are slick with mud,
My hands are stained with blood,
My breath is hot, my skin is awful cold.
I am obsessed with form,
I'm lonesome and forlorn,
I've done some things, I'm certainly not proud.

But there are diamonds in the dross.
There is solace in this awful place.
A pair of eyes across the room.
Lights up the coaldust on my face.

The colours fill the night,
The street is bathed in light,
It wasn't fair, I was almost away.
I acted brave and tough,
But it wasn't enough,
They sunk in claws, and they took me away.

But you had words like fire
and skin like snow,
I cared for none
and had to go,
But your words were fire,
and your skin was snow,
You tore my mind -
But I said no!

But there are diamonds in the dross.
There is solace in this sterile place.
A pair of eyes across the room.
Lights up the coaldust on my face.

My feet are slick with mud,
My hands are stained with blood,
Your breath is hot, your skin is pale and cold.