Cut up the senses and peel back a layer of my skin
I'm rushing red
We wear the make-up of a braille read by swollen finger tips
Touching eye-lids
Swim in the waters of my hands
Dissect the ribbons with my fangs
We stood against the sun
With melted palms from touching your skin
and now I'm kicking off your stand
I'm rushing red
We wear the make-up of a braille read by swollen finger tips
Touching eye-lids
Swim in the waters of my hands
Dissect the ribbons with my fangs
We stood against the sun
With melted palms from touching your skin
and now I'm kicking off your stand