|
I touch your fire |
|
The pressure of the cylinder rises |
|
The gravitation between us enforced |
|
Our skin smell scorched |
|
The bodies soak for |
|
The signal of the blood device |
|
The rhythm of the beat bang us |
|
It rises |
|
It rises |
|
I am a servant of desire |
|
You're wrapped up in water |
|
Intersected, intercourse with the blood |
|
Biting meat, sucking bones |
|
Sipping liquid, touching freaky |
|
Grab the every nerve of an emotion |
|
Charm by you and luna thing |
|
The memory of the sea we're in |
|
There is it |
|
There is it |
|
There is it |
|
It's there |
|
I hear a voice say stop |
|
I hear a voice to push me |
|
The curve lightened by T.V |
|
I calm down my rough breath |
|
Got my rhythm back |
|
forget the washed away feeling for a moment |
|
SMOKE |
|
Gimme a memory |
|
Alcohol in the midnight |
|
Neither morning coffee not the evening shower ever changes |
|
Rain keep falling 40 days |
|
Still raining |
|
We crawl on the ground in the valley of the building |
|
Where we lost the smell of blood and We looked for the beat |
|
The loops of a release and a spell |
|
We hold on again... |
|
Looking for more, and |
|
Looking for more, and more, |
|
more, more, more.... |
|
Residents of darkness |
|
Trusters to the darkness |
|
I don't believe the moon... |
|
There is it |
|
There is it |
|
There is it |
|
It's there |
