måndag 23 maj 2011

My Skin

Take a look at my body
Look at my hands
There's so much here
That I don't understand

Your face saving promises

Whispered like prayers
I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong

I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

Contempt loves the silence

It thrives in the dark
With fine winding tendrils
That strangle the heart

They say that promises

Sweeten the blow
But I don't need them
No, I don't need them

I've been treated so wrong

I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable

I'm a slow dying flower

Frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour
And untouchable

Oh, I need

The darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this

I need

A lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel sweet
Love of my life
Oh, I need this

I'm a slow dying flower

Frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour
And untouchable

Do you remember the way

That you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness
I loved and adored?

Your face saving promises

Whispered like prayers
I don't need them
No, I don't need them


Well, is it dark enough?

Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving

You better shut your mouth

Hold your breath
Kiss me now you'll catch your death
Oh, I mean it
Oh, I need this.




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