| I Turn My Arm |
|---|
| Watch the mirror |
| You know you’re going to need it |
| Touch the cold air |
| You know you’re going to feel it |
| Now you’re seeing me move all of my fingers |
| See me holding up my hand in the faltering strip light |
| Turn my arm |
| Touch the cold air |
| Touching everything I want to hold |
| Black on my skin, it’s sheer and cold |
| Feel a thousand pins all over my thumb |
| Twenty-seven bones as I turn my arm |
| Touch the cold air |
| Turn, turn my arm |
| Touch the cold air |
| Turn my arm |
| Touch the cold air |
| Turn, turn my arm |
| Touch the cold air |
| Turn my arm |
