Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Drown, artist - The Golden Palominos. Album song Dead Inside, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 31.07.2002
Record label: RESTLESS
Song language: English
Drown |
his scent swims around me like a perfume too heavy for summer |
me lost thing |
intoxicated |
curled within him |
drowning over and over |
charmed disarmed |
he comes when least expected |
sits too close |
lingers too long |
stares too deeply |
and claims me with something I cannot name |
lightheaded and clean |
this is a gift |
biting tongue until blood |
I am sick with him |
talk goes no deeper than tonight |
words are tickets to spend time |
skin is talking to skin |
loud |
I know not to go too deep |
but when his hands stop |
tremble, temptation |
I thrill back |
open up crawl walls |
this woman is no man’s |
this man is no one’s |
this one is mine |
in a full room, alone on a couch |
he is throned |
doesn’t move |
knows I will come |
smitten |
it vibrates |
makes drinks tremble |
food wastes time |
cigarettes are for curling smoke |
and drawing me in this is bloody business |
guilt makes for poor postcards |
so he comes in for a while |
what do we know of this? |
doesn’t know if he’ll be allowed to stay |
but he looks a while too long |
and stirs the close air |
dragging me to the bottom of the lake |
couches are for excuses |
and temptation |
crushed in too deep to breathe |
swoon again skin you do not know |
with hands that know too much |
of what you must never say |
flesh to curl to grind |
to feign sleep to balance wishes |
on tongues and wait for the time |
now |
cozy he calls me says I smell like sweet cream |
closed eyes bring on a luscious film |
of time and silence |
he tastes like stars |
he feels like thunder |
regret makes you bitter |
he says |
come in and swim |
we disappear into a dusk |
we’ll never own |
and never quite shake |
a luscious slice |
of water |
lack of sleep makes me drift |
lake of sleep makes me wonder |
he will exist |
he will evaporate |
I am sick with him, gone |
in regret dreams he is low and sweet |
dark like a drift storm |
holding me down under the waves |
telling me not to talk |
not to move |
this will only take an hour |
or two |