Classical is not so subliminal
What are you on about?
Flesh down to your nerve as you ail
What are you on about?
I could love you all the time I could argue
on and on and
Glass sits cold it’s not so subliminal
What are you on about and what’s got you down?
All the health over me
No one else but me
We all upset it enough
You know
Even if you tired
Tried cutting me off
I want that cold, cold water running up your thighs
And let this sweet, sweet tree hollow out your eyes
Flesh gets cold it’s not so subliminal
What are you on about and what all’s got you down?
I want that cold, cold water running up your thighs
And let this sweet, sweet tree hollow out your eyes
And what the body condemns, impatiently obscure
We’ll let this guilt be the virtue we needn’t bestow