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Testo Sleep Alone
Testo Sleep Alone
"Do it really make it all go away?
Or does it simply make it all less current?
Are you hungry when you come my way?
For someone or something that could save you?
Baby, I'm what you need"
"Do you feel that I could never relate,
to the vinegar religion you praise? So you prefer I hold you under your sheets,
and exchange English for some salt water speak?
You're something, really something to me
Says the make-up smeared all over your face
Then I touch you on your chest in a place,
that left shambles in the space where you laid,
I'm sorry, I'm what you need"
I know you know, the devil in the detail
I need to know, what keeps those feet in soil
Morphine dreams are quite serene,
in fellowship with melancholy
Bedroom door with lock involved,
ear to wood, waiting on me Lay blame on the silhouette,
the loose sundress on Latin skin
And pain made from paper mache,
then stuffed like hell with sweet release
It's ten more notches on that clock,
till' reprieve receptionist takes a break
All that's left is me and this,
and you have been buckled in backseat
Gold intention, tarnished finish,
shimmers like self depreciation
Your intention, pure perfection,
selfless love is salvation
Elderly, I'm envious, how do you stay in love?
I am young, forever young, selfish so, I sleep alone
Or does it simply make it all less current?
Are you hungry when you come my way?
For someone or something that could save you?
Baby, I'm what you need"
"Do you feel that I could never relate,
to the vinegar religion you praise? So you prefer I hold you under your sheets,
and exchange English for some salt water speak?
You're something, really something to me
Says the make-up smeared all over your face
Then I touch you on your chest in a place,
that left shambles in the space where you laid,
I'm sorry, I'm what you need"
I know you know, the devil in the detail
I need to know, what keeps those feet in soil
Morphine dreams are quite serene,
in fellowship with melancholy
Bedroom door with lock involved,
ear to wood, waiting on me Lay blame on the silhouette,
the loose sundress on Latin skin
And pain made from paper mache,
then stuffed like hell with sweet release
It's ten more notches on that clock,
till' reprieve receptionist takes a break
All that's left is me and this,
and you have been buckled in backseat
Gold intention, tarnished finish,
shimmers like self depreciation
Your intention, pure perfection,
selfless love is salvation
Elderly, I'm envious, how do you stay in love?
I am young, forever young, selfish so, I sleep alone
- Andreas
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