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Plastique Noir
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Blind Voyeurs
I used to wake up in square benches
with your dry mouth kissing my heart
I used to wake up in square benches
with your bitter mouth kissing my heart
Take me back home again
through the traffic jams
I had your mouth kissing my heart
A warm mouth kissing my heart
It's so funny to consider
I was your last choice
All your different faces to cry for
Would I? Could I? Should I?
I really don't care
Blind voyeurs only kill for love
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I wish I could fly above the affects
I'm always needing something else to get high
Your lips on my chest hurt
Ripped my skin, broke my bones, oh, my heart
We used to be slaves for underground,
forbidden pleasures
At least I had your mouth kissing my heart
A nervous mouth kissing my heart
It's so funny to consider
the mutual last choice
All our different traces, I never knew
when to follow that mine
I don't dare
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