Your eyes graze me,
I can feel the bruise
Where your glance drops to my shoulder,
Your essence a stormy smoldering
...
Excommunicato,
Mr. Man he sit up
on a broken pallet
in the tire yard,
...
Stranger To Me
Your eyes graze me,
I can feel the bruise
Where your glance drops to my shoulder,
Your essence a stormy smoldering
Held in check.
What you give up is
Only what you refuse
To take...
I want to know you
But your distant shore defies me,
Your skin, once cool is colder
And I should dare
To build a fire
But for the edge of thought
That I might lose
My wood.