Her eyes and words are so icy
Oh but she burns
Like rum on a fire
Hot and fast and angry
As she can be
I walk my days on a wireIt looks ugly, but it's clean
Oh mamma, don't fuss over meThe way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
Calls of guilty thrown at me
All while she stains
The sheets of some other
Thrown at me so powerfully
Just like she throws with the arm of her brotherBut I want it, it's a crime
That she's not around most of the timeThe Way she shows me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wineHer fight and fury is fiery
Oh but she loves
Like sleep to the freezing
Sweet and right and merciful
I'm all but washed
In the tide of her breathing
And it's worth it, it's divine
I have this some of the timeThe Way she shows me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.