| Prostitute
|
| Obsession
|
| (willcox)
|
| Baby, baby, baby, baby
|
| Oh never mind
|
| Pr.pr.pr.pressing my heel of my shoes
|
| Into your paintwork
|
| Shattering determination
|
| Brick thoughts crumble
|
| We’ve stood under this sky
|
| Far too long baby
|
| Come on meet your soul
|
| Wife now, I don’t believe you
|
| Don’t want to see me, come on baby
|
| Flash bulbs squeeze light
|
| >From metal veins
|
| Across the blistering night
|
| I arrest your image and
|
| Detain
|
| We’re not waalking on safe land
|
| We’re sinking in quick sand
|
| Obsession
|
| Good god, have you seen that weirdo in the car behind
|
| No, no don’t look
|
| Don’t make it obvious anyway
|
| As I was saying
|
| Envy scratches all down the side of the car
|
| Flirt you’re in the car in front
|
| I think with someone else
|
| Her cigarette glows in the dark
|
| I see my arm on the wheel
|
| In the oncoming lights
|
| Mascara black tears trickle down
|
| It’s not me, it’s just meat that drives
|
| Born by man captive and
|
| Damned to shed this skin and
|
| Enter you in the bliss of death
|
| A soul bathed in fur
|
| A heart robed in flesh
|
| Whichever way you wear yourself
|
| I’ll get in
|
| Obsession
|
| Every time I venture out
|
| I leava a note in my pocket
|
| Or on the table, or posted to a friend
|
| To respect fate to let you know where I stand with you
|
| If not in life, perhaps another time
|
| Obsession
|
| England this burning land
|
| Sensuality of tone
|
| Twenty-two miles till the earth curves
|
| Then you’re out of sight
|
| I’ll be clothed in confusion
|
| When I woke in this body
|
| By my mother’s side
|
| Born from all
|
| Seeing to one sight
|
| I am all
|
| I am in a microcosm of time before
|
| I become one and all again
|
| I want to experience
|
| I want to walk all over you |