| Bleeding Fingers |
|
You got a sense of humor
You're a mystery
I heard a rumor
You're making history
Photographic dialogues
Beneath your skin
Pornographic episodes
Screaming sin
'Til it's real live bleeding fingers
And broken guitar strings
You are my Prince Charming
Draped in velvet robes
Of all that's alarming
And raw exposed
Shattered nerves
Itchy skin
Dirty words
And heroin
Better real live bleeding fingers
And broken guitar strings
I climb all the way inside
Your tragedy
I got behind
The majesty
Of the differnt shapes
In every note
The endless tapes
Of every word you wrote
With real live bleeding fingers
And broken guitar strings
|
| |
|
