Third Company Hands On Purchased Harps

Burning fires,
burning lives,
let inferno dance upon knives.
A lisp for desires,
spoken by liars and strung by black wires.

One and two,
the petals in the bed.
Add one more,
Oh, how your passion is dead.
Angels by lust, and swords of trust,
midnight pleasures, in glare of the Love abhor,
Is it not I who keeps you fed?

Third colour hands,
playing another's harp,
breaching forbidden lovers' lands,
best keep your wits sharp.
And how they say,
like the devils,
It's so fun to play.
But Love says two is plenty,
best not damn it with third company.