When I submit to my desire
you're ready and waiting.
I am here for the giving and
I am yours for the taking.
One hand on your shoulder
gripping sweet electric skin,
one hand on the headboard,
I'm in control and sinking in
right into the rythms that drown out the
dishamonous soundtrack to my existence,
all else is just left behind with the elevation
and expanse of mundane consciousness.
Gone is the nihilism inherent in
the redundant death of the daily grind,
the neon blasts and black eyes in
the visions in my head that run me blind,
and all that makes up the cyclone of shit
inside my wandering, weathered mind
you bring me to calm, ocean waters,
twisting rays of a beautiful celtic sunshine.
Why did I wait so long again to
crawl back to you to let us unwind?
My finger traces the path between the back
of your neck and the base of your spine.
Coiled, but loosening,
three-and-a-half times,
out of slumber and rising
to the height of the mind.
Between the animal and the divine,
I want to tow the seemingly fated line,
between the ground here with you
and the skies swarming in my buried eye.
Just like a tight-rope walker of the cosmos,
a misled prophet finds prana for his bellows
don't fall off now, steady, steady as she goes
she touches you, the stars beckon above
feel the rain coming down again,
at first a soft sprinkling tickling my mind.
And I don't know why, why I waited so long
to crawl back to you, to let us unwind.
you're ready and waiting.
I am here for the giving and
I am yours for the taking.
One hand on your shoulder
gripping sweet electric skin,
one hand on the headboard,
I'm in control and sinking in
right into the rythms that drown out the
dishamonous soundtrack to my existence,
all else is just left behind with the elevation
and expanse of mundane consciousness.
Gone is the nihilism inherent in
the redundant death of the daily grind,
the neon blasts and black eyes in
the visions in my head that run me blind,
and all that makes up the cyclone of shit
inside my wandering, weathered mind
you bring me to calm, ocean waters,
twisting rays of a beautiful celtic sunshine.
Why did I wait so long again to
crawl back to you to let us unwind?
My finger traces the path between the back
of your neck and the base of your spine.
Coiled, but loosening,
three-and-a-half times,
out of slumber and rising
to the height of the mind.
Between the animal and the divine,
I want to tow the seemingly fated line,
between the ground here with you
and the skies swarming in my buried eye.
Just like a tight-rope walker of the cosmos,
a misled prophet finds prana for his bellows
don't fall off now, steady, steady as she goes
she touches you, the stars beckon above
feel the rain coming down again,
at first a soft sprinkling tickling my mind.
And I don't know why, why I waited so long
to crawl back to you, to let us unwind.
