Once Again

You're Flashing Me Those Blues

And I'm Remembering Why I'm Wasting Days

If I Had The Nerve

I'd Drain All Your Beautiful

All You're Good For Is Burning Bloodstreams

Each Movement Makes Music

A Chemical Touch That Would Send Shocks

But You're Destined For Display Only

The Most I Could Hope For Is To Smear The Glass

These Heavy Fingertips

Leaving Trails Of Scattered Skin And Cracked Porcelain

Tell Me What I Haven't Got

Because I'd Kill To Get It

Tell Me What I Haven't Got

Don't Tell Me, He's Got It

Who's On The Receiving End Of Those Perfect Lips