Where Do I Go From You?

Announcements from the mountain
I’m stranded by your side
I took you for a cut-rate Madonna
You took me for a child
And the loser takes his prize

I heard it on the battle field
Your beauty’s ruined lives
Pin poppies to the victim’s glistening limbs
Who’ve fallen for your thighs
And the loser takes his prize

This town’s bloodied gallows block
And these are revolutionary times
I decapitated love, sleaze and treachery
And gave them to your eyes
And the loser takes his prize

So waltz me to the ambulance
My hearts a collapsing mine
I showed you all of life’s most poignant moments
You never even cried
And the loser takes his prize

Where do I go from you?