| Precious fingers, she knows how to hold the poison
|
| Lick it, dip it and for no particular reason
|
| She crawls on the floor, slides against the door
|
| Press your fingers over blossom, and it’s season
|
| Doesn’t matter, she’ll be doing it her way
|
| Doesn’t care if it’s a 10 or a 2-way
|
| Doesn’t matter, she’ll be doing it her way
|
| Every night, every day
|
| Never meant to show up here anyway
|
| Only fucking you till the season change
|
| Treasure deep between the places that you hold dear
|
| Can’t it hurt to act as if we are in love here?
|
| Lie across this chair, fingers everywhere
|
| To define all the angels up above here
|
| Doesn’t matter, she’ll be doing it her way
|
| Doesn’t care if it’s a 10 or a 2-way
|
| Doesn’t matter, she’ll be doing it her way
|
| Every night, every day
|
| Never meant to show up here anyway
|
| Only fucking you till the season change
|
| When you cum, be a good girl
|
| Hold your breath, make it last long
|
| And it’s called death
|
| A little death, girl
|
| Never make a show of fear anyway
|
| Only fucking you till the season change
|
| Never make a show of fear anyway
|
| Only fucking you till the season change |