| Song | She |
| Artist | Subtle |
| Album | A New White |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| She’s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds | |
| Gargles spiders | |
| Stops time, then steals lipstick | |
| Tonight she’ll light one hundred cannons off one single cigarette | |
| She’s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar's bare foot | |
| Then: the kind of woman you could love walks in: | |
| She circles her | |
| Beauty marks with the wet end of a blue pen | |
| Staring softly through the high school play props and postcard parts of grown men | |
| She knows we jerk off to the daughters of the world | |
| She’s all that’s beautiful and opposite sad music | |
| Running through green fields, in soft focus towards each other | |
| And yet you. You boy you. You boy you | |
| She was so black hold. So black hole in a china shop | |
| She’s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds | |
| Gargles spiders | |
| Stops time, then steals lipstick | |
| Tonight she’ll light one hundred cannons off one cigarette | |
| She’s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar's bare foot | |
| Now, she climbs the girth | |
| Of one small stone step somewhere | |
| Screaming vaginal sabotage in the sun | |
| To the purse of loosely pinched flesh | |
| Between the pit formed by her upper arm chest and top adjoining | |
| There, you were | |
| You were boy with all the walls | |
| And so she took her sugar elsewhere | |
| Whilst you shuffle with enlightenment to date | |
| She left you for the undertaker and his sensitive side | |
| He’d say: | |
| Baby morgues are people too | |
| And I. And I. And I | |
| After all, dear I love you | |
| And I. And I. And I | |
| Love you ; He is so | |
| I. I. I love you ; He is so | |
| When you open your mouth | |
| She removes her gloves | |
| And the sea pours mighty | |
| From her hollowed sleeves | |
| Until everything that is solved in | |
| Life now begins to float around your socks and soaking ankles | |
| Locks of semen | |
| Tiny spears of beard | |
| Clumps of baby teeth and even | |
| A few cut feet of umbilical ribbon | |
| Until you shut your eyes to | |
| Draw the gloves back onto her | |
| Gushing and half finished wrists | |
| She brings the deluge | |
| Tells you to bring nothing | |
| But a rafts rope between your teeth | |
| And some poem about yourself |
| She' s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds | |
| Gargles spiders | |
| Stops time, then steals lipstick | |
| Tonight she' ll light one hundred cannons off one single cigarette | |
| She' s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar' s bare foot | |
| Then: the kind of woman you could love walks in: | |
| She circles her | |
| Beauty marks with the wet end of a blue pen | |
| Staring softly through the high school play props and postcard parts of grown men | |
| She knows we jerk off to the daughters of the world | |
| She' s all that' s beautiful and opposite sad music | |
| Running through green fields, in soft focus towards each other | |
| And yet you. You boy you. You boy you | |
| She was so black hold. So black hole in a china shop | |
| She' s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds | |
| Gargles spiders | |
| Stops time, then steals lipstick | |
| Tonight she' ll light one hundred cannons off one cigarette | |
| She' s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar' s bare foot | |
| Now, she climbs the girth | |
| Of one small stone step somewhere | |
| Screaming vaginal sabotage in the sun | |
| To the purse of loosely pinched flesh | |
| Between the pit formed by her upper arm chest and top adjoining | |
| There, you were | |
| You were boy with all the walls | |
| And so she took her sugar elsewhere | |
| Whilst you shuffle with enlightenment to date | |
| She left you for the undertaker and his sensitive side | |
| He' d say: | |
| Baby morgues are people too | |
| And I. And I. And I | |
| After all, dear I love you | |
| And I. And I. And I | |
| Love you nbsp He is so | |
| I. I. I love you nbsp He is so | |
| When you open your mouth | |
| She removes her gloves | |
| And the sea pours mighty | |
| From her hollowed sleeves | |
| Until everything that is solved in | |
| Life now begins to float around your socks and soaking ankles | |
| Locks of semen | |
| Tiny spears of beard | |
| Clumps of baby teeth and even | |
| A few cut feet of umbilical ribbon | |
| Until you shut your eyes to | |
| Draw the gloves back onto her | |
| Gushing and half finished wrists | |
| She brings the deluge | |
| Tells you to bring nothing | |
| But a rafts rope between your teeth | |
| And some poem about yourself |
| She' s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds | |
| Gargles spiders | |
| Stops time, then steals lipstick | |
| Tonight she' ll light one hundred cannons off one single cigarette | |
| She' s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar' s bare foot | |
| Then: the kind of woman you could love walks in: | |
| She circles her | |
| Beauty marks with the wet end of a blue pen | |
| Staring softly through the high school play props and postcard parts of grown men | |
| She knows we jerk off to the daughters of the world | |
| She' s all that' s beautiful and opposite sad music | |
| Running through green fields, in soft focus towards each other | |
| And yet you. You boy you. You boy you | |
| She was so black hold. So black hole in a china shop | |
| She' s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds | |
| Gargles spiders | |
| Stops time, then steals lipstick | |
| Tonight she' ll light one hundred cannons off one cigarette | |
| She' s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar' s bare foot | |
| Now, she climbs the girth | |
| Of one small stone step somewhere | |
| Screaming vaginal sabotage in the sun | |
| To the purse of loosely pinched flesh | |
| Between the pit formed by her upper arm chest and top adjoining | |
| There, you were | |
| You were boy with all the walls | |
| And so she took her sugar elsewhere | |
| Whilst you shuffle with enlightenment to date | |
| She left you for the undertaker and his sensitive side | |
| He' d say: | |
| Baby morgues are people too | |
| And I. And I. And I | |
| After all, dear I love you | |
| And I. And I. And I | |
| Love you nbsp He is so | |
| I. I. I love you nbsp He is so | |
| When you open your mouth | |
| She removes her gloves | |
| And the sea pours mighty | |
| From her hollowed sleeves | |
| Until everything that is solved in | |
| Life now begins to float around your socks and soaking ankles | |
| Locks of semen | |
| Tiny spears of beard | |
| Clumps of baby teeth and even | |
| A few cut feet of umbilical ribbon | |
| Until you shut your eyes to | |
| Draw the gloves back onto her | |
| Gushing and half finished wrists | |
| She brings the deluge | |
| Tells you to bring nothing | |
| But a rafts rope between your teeth | |
| And some poem about yourself |