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Your spit still clings to bottles in the fridge |
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It brings relief to know that you've been there |
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All this time |
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The taste of AM shifting through the darkest night |
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It battles for a space that's right |
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How I collect |
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My eyes you drew |
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Cross them for something to do |
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Mmmm |
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Barefeet cross, in infrared they meet |
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They last, the images they make still stay |
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Close to me |
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Pins and things, they're caught up in your hair |
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They made, they made me want to care, still there |
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And I collect |
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Half-sucked sweets and fine receipts |
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Stuck in my pocket for you |
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For you |
