Blood It smells like blood It smells like fucking blood In here
Warm flesh and cold fluorescents Tangled wires and dangling drip bags Fire-red hair in the blue light In the blue light
These shrivelled, sweatsoaked sheets Slumped over the mattress edge A Siberian divide
And these fingers These clammy, feeble fingers Wriggling frantically in the dark O these fingers These wretched little fingers They tremble before you
Say something Say anything
Our hope is fragile And we cling to it Like filthy bedsheets Like the last brittle leaves of winter Thrashed about in the frost Like the pages of an open book Clutched to your chest Even as they tear and fall away
Dark arms reach skyward With bone white fingersTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
