Body too used.
Crucified to a bed of nails,
summer nights were the best
in my life, but our voices are hoarse
screaming over windYour
Hands feel good on me
I am inadequate, the sins of my past
revealed through the stretch marks.
My monsters live on my skin.
it's me, not you.
Body too used.
Crucified to a bed of nails,
summer nights were the best
in my life, but our voices are hoarse
screaming over windYour
Hands feel good on me
I am inadequate, the sins of my past
revealed through the stretch marks.
My monsters live on my skin.