Song | Tiptoe Through the True Bits |
Artist | Los Campesinos! |
Album | Tiptoe Through the True Bits |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
You asked if you could see me, before I went to Spain | |
You didn’t give a reason, didn’t know what you would say | |
But I was hoping that my breath on your face, | |
Would blow every last thing into place | |
The bed-spread decked in suns and moons and symbols of the star-signs, | |
How you read how mine applied to how I would be sex-wise | |
And in my arms you disappeared and I seemed twice the size, | |
Slept and woke with lips together, sleeping felt like lies | |
Girl, I helped you with your demons, but your ghosts are now haunting me too | |
That French bitch, an ex-boyfriend threatening to tie his neck to the roof | |
But if we tiptoe through the true bits | |
We might make it to the other side | |
What doesn’t kill you, leaves you wounded | |
But I will nurse you better alright | |
I’ve been waking on your side of the bed | |
As the sun’s been rising in the west | |
If your skin feels softer, I’ve no argument to make, | |
The weight of such apologies caused stronger men to ache | |
If his kisses draw the bad out, I can’t have a complaint | |
As they hit your tongue like sedatives while I lay wide awake | |
You can feel a tremor in a single word, it rattles down your spinal chord | |
And you can catch a raincloud in an hourglass, but it will turn into a storm | |
Knee deep in flowers we’ll stray, | |
You keep the showers away |
You asked if you could see me, before I went to Spain | |
You didn' t give a reason, didn' t know what you would say | |
But I was hoping that my breath on your face, | |
Would blow every last thing into place | |
The bedspread decked in suns and moons and symbols of the starsigns, | |
How you read how mine applied to how I would be sexwise | |
And in my arms you disappeared and I seemed twice the size, | |
Slept and woke with lips together, sleeping felt like lies | |
Girl, I helped you with your demons, but your ghosts are now haunting me too | |
That French bitch, an exboyfriend threatening to tie his neck to the roof | |
But if we tiptoe through the true bits | |
We might make it to the other side | |
What doesn' t kill you, leaves you wounded | |
But I will nurse you better alright | |
I' ve been waking on your side of the bed | |
As the sun' s been rising in the west | |
If your skin feels softer, I' ve no argument to make, | |
The weight of such apologies caused stronger men to ache | |
If his kisses draw the bad out, I can' t have a complaint | |
As they hit your tongue like sedatives while I lay wide awake | |
You can feel a tremor in a single word, it rattles down your spinal chord | |
And you can catch a raincloud in an hourglass, but it will turn into a storm | |
Knee deep in flowers we' ll stray, | |
You keep the showers away |
You asked if you could see me, before I went to Spain | |
You didn' t give a reason, didn' t know what you would say | |
But I was hoping that my breath on your face, | |
Would blow every last thing into place | |
The bedspread decked in suns and moons and symbols of the starsigns, | |
How you read how mine applied to how I would be sexwise | |
And in my arms you disappeared and I seemed twice the size, | |
Slept and woke with lips together, sleeping felt like lies | |
Girl, I helped you with your demons, but your ghosts are now haunting me too | |
That French bitch, an exboyfriend threatening to tie his neck to the roof | |
But if we tiptoe through the true bits | |
We might make it to the other side | |
What doesn' t kill you, leaves you wounded | |
But I will nurse you better alright | |
I' ve been waking on your side of the bed | |
As the sun' s been rising in the west | |
If your skin feels softer, I' ve no argument to make, | |
The weight of such apologies caused stronger men to ache | |
If his kisses draw the bad out, I can' t have a complaint | |
As they hit your tongue like sedatives while I lay wide awake | |
You can feel a tremor in a single word, it rattles down your spinal chord | |
And you can catch a raincloud in an hourglass, but it will turn into a storm | |
Knee deep in flowers we' ll stray, | |
You keep the showers away |