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You walked through her door, and into her senses |
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And swept under carpets in your search for sleep |
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I see I see amore, when looking through lenses |
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Cry 'Blind for creation!' like you're blind for me |
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Ride swift through the houses like blood rides through me |
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Red wine and whiskey are no good for me |
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Dissecting the atlas for places we've been |
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Your list is longer but you've got more years on me |
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A token to dispense, we take it all in doubles |
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Weeping on concrete, then stealing away |
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You opened up her mouth, and let our all her secrets |
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Assumed her disordered in her thirst to stray |
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Ride swift through the houses like blood rides through me |
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Red wine and whiskey are no good for me |
|
Dissecting the atlas for places we've been |
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Your list is longer but you've got more years on me |
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[spoken] |
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And these black berries stain your hands and your lips |
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Sup on their dimension in the gut of our summer trips |
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So pray, sleep sweet, and sharpen your teeth |
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And escape from this body your soul is impounded beneath |
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Abort the nonchalance, and clap for your culture |
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Your tanned hide exerting, the sum of your parts |
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The bridges will advance, devout of their structure |
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Armour the estuaries that plow through your heart |
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Ride swift through the houses like blood rides through me |
|
Red wine and whiskey are no good for me |
|
Dissecting the atlas for places we've been |
|
Your list is longer but you've got more years on me |
