|
The strength of her pulse is breaking her chest |
|
She's getting wet from this feverish writhe |
|
The midnight's cruel for a lonely girl |
|
When the unknown slowly undresses her breasts |
|
The voice - and her eyes wide shut |
|
Her fever burns a mark on her bed |
|
The path that she runs among these silent trees |
|
Leads her body for me to claim |
|
The veil of fog covers her velvet skin |
|
As she kneels naked under the moon |
|
The whispers from her lips and her screams |
|
Invite me to her ecstatic flame, over and over again |
|
Her bed is covered in dirt and leaves |
|
And she's burning down on her knees |
|
Midnight's cruel for a lonely girl |
|
And she's getting wet from this feverish writhe |
