Eyes like a slash across her face
|
Lips I'd kill a man to taste
|
Whatever this stuff is, I'm buying
|
Whatever it does, I'll do it 'til I'm dying
|
|
I can't wash her away
|
It's getting under my skin
|
I can't wash her away
|
I can feel her closing in
|
|
Hands like a carnival of queens
|
Hair like a heart attack of dreams
|
A voice so soft you could cut it with a kiss
|
Screams so small you could hold them in your fist
|
Little white fingertips running up your back
|
Little needling scores where her nails leave a track
|
|
I can't wash her away
|
She's living in my skin
|
I can't seem to wash her away
|
I can feel her closing in
|
|
Eyes like a slash across her face
|
Lips so damn sweet you'd cut your tonuge out for a taste
|
Whatever this stuff is, I'm buying
|
If she's nothing but a coffin least she's good enough to die in
|
She's a ballroom full of dancing chairs
|
She's a child in disguise hiding bullets in her hair
|
A voice so soft you could cut it with a kiss
|
Screams so small you could hold them in your fist
|
Every one night stand is a six week stretch
|
Craving her arms twisted up around your neck
|
Skin so white, a heart so pure
|
If you opeden up her veins you'd see the light run through her
|
|
-----------------
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Wash Her Away
|
| Del Amitri |
