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| Stroke 9 Nasty Little Thoughts Down Frozen fingers on my skin Guilty hands clutching gin Your tin, thin eyes can't see within Soul to soul and skin to skin we burn And the silence won't subsie As I crawl to your scaly side Your eyes could never hide My eyes and all their pride My shoulder to your face is so warm Dim light from moon outlines our form You're sinewy and shiftless and so forlorn Between here and thereand everywhere you're torn Carving out a piece for me, saving three for you Squeeze me tight that's all Waiting... waiting for you To call out my name, speak to me And say that it's alright to be on the wrong track Call out my name, speak to me And say that it's alright to be on the wrong track There's a warm breeze in the city tonight Soft light makes every sad sight seem alright And I'm spinning around and we're holding tight Soul to soul and face to face we turn... |
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