| I want to feel that you want it
|
| I want to feel by the morning
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| Oh, let me feel what you are
|
| Flashes on match heads, splashes of ashes
|
| Embers arising, smoke fills the skies in
|
| Wind blows in then crashes, waves over the ashes
|
| Hills washed up in violet, eyes close up to hide it
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| I want to feel by the morning
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| Oh, let me feel what you are
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| I want to feel by the morning
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| Oh, let me feel what you are
|
| Freefall in Paris, sundreams in flashes
|
| Growing and rising, rain fills the skies in
|
| Sunday morning crashes, flickering of lashes
|
| Sink into the mattress, fall into the atlas
|
| Flashes on match heads, splashes of ashes
|
| Sink in the mattress, tell me that you want it
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| I want to feel by the morning
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| Oh, let me feel what you are
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| I want to feel by the morning
|
| I want to feel that you want it
|
| Oh, let me feel what you are |