Thinking so hard on her soft eyes and memories of the signs that it's over. It's over.
Kiss me out of desire, but not consolation.
All flowers in time bend towards the sun, I know you say there's no one for you, But here is one.
I'm lying in my bed, blanket is warm, this body will never keep me safe from harm. I still feel your hair, black ribbons of coal. Touch my skin to keep me whole. If only you'd come back to me. To feel you at my side, wouldn't need no Mojo Pin to keep me satisfied.
She's a tear that hangs inside my soul forever.
To young to hold on and to old to just break free and run.
Words are beautiful but restricted. They're very masculine, with a compact frame. But voice is over the dark, the place where there's nothing to hang on: it comes from a part of yourself that simply knows, expresses itself, and is.
Maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong, but tonight you're on my mind, so you never know.