I'm like Thomas doubting fingers
|
running the scars Your wrists and side
|
touching flesh will make my mind believe
|
|
I want to be like David throwing his clothes to the wind
|
to dance a jig, in my skin
|
to be re-made by your cleansing again
|
|
[Chorus]
|
I gave you myself
|
it's all that I have
|
broken and frail
|
I'm clay in your hands
|
and spinning I can see all
|
is it only Israel
|
for you my love
|
|
I want to be like David throwing his clothes to the wind
|
to dance a jig, in my skin
|
to be re-made by your cleansing again
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
Dizzy
|
| Sixpence None The Richer |
