Once againYou’re flashing me those bluesAnd i’m remembering why i’m wasting daysIf i had the nerveI’d drain all your beautifulAll you’re good for is burning bloodstreamsEach movement makes musicA chemical touch that would send shocksBut you’re destined for display onlyThe most i could hope for is to smear the glassThese heavy fingertipsLeaving trails of scattered skin and cracked porcelainTell me what i haven’t gotBecause i’d kill to get itTell me what i haven’t gotDon’t tell me, he’s got itWho’s on the receiving end of those perfect lips?