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I’m sinking my skin into your beat
With an obscure rhythm
Under silhouetted sheets
Our movements erratic
Force confined by cracked walls
Pulling the plaster from the ceiling.
You’re coming faster into me
Grasping each finger tasting each
Kiss, novel with the curves of our skin.
Our soul’s elevation lies above the ground
When our frames match the bedside
we orchestrate the sounds
Autonomous as we continue to speed
Blow shivers through my window
And I can see this beauty
I don’t mind the slow decay
We bring on our minds, when we numb the shades
Polarize the beauty with our sunshine dust
Draw in the focus and let the world rust
She found your mirror from a wicker store
Said my singing daughter is a girl no more
As she placates dreams with curiosity
Then falls onto the bathroom floor
She said I see what’s in between
You’re just digging graves of kerosene
Facilitated by the streams
Personifying love
I can’t see I can’t see I can’t dream anymore
These withering eyes puncture my skin
exposing the residue left under my nails
and in my head.
Were just painted leaves on hollow skin
Just a brush of color in the wind
But were flying by to quick to see
Or turn into our dreams
Were wasting water on the devils skin
Letting masks of paper settle in
Its not the hand that makes the mark
It’s the head and the face in the wake of.
With an obscure rhythm
Under silhouetted sheets
Our movements erratic
Force confined by cracked walls
Pulling the plaster from the ceiling.
You’re coming faster into me
Grasping each finger tasting each
Kiss, novel with the curves of our skin.
Our soul’s elevation lies above the ground
When our frames match the bedside
we orchestrate the sounds
Autonomous as we continue to speed
Blow shivers through my window
And I can see this beauty
I don’t mind the slow decay
We bring on our minds, when we numb the shades
Polarize the beauty with our sunshine dust
Draw in the focus and let the world rust
She found your mirror from a wicker store
Said my singing daughter is a girl no more
As she placates dreams with curiosity
Then falls onto the bathroom floor
She said I see what’s in between
You’re just digging graves of kerosene
Facilitated by the streams
Personifying love
I can’t see I can’t see I can’t dream anymore
These withering eyes puncture my skin
exposing the residue left under my nails
and in my head.
Were just painted leaves on hollow skin
Just a brush of color in the wind
But were flying by to quick to see
Or turn into our dreams
Were wasting water on the devils skin
Letting masks of paper settle in
Its not the hand that makes the mark
It’s the head and the face in the wake of.