Down - Stroke 9

Frozen fingers on my skin

Guilty hands clutching gin

Your tin, thin eyes can’t see within

Soul to soul and shin to shin we burn

And the silence won’t subside

As I crawl to your scaly side

Your eyes could never hide

My eyes and all their pride

My shoulder to your face is so warm

Dim light from moon outlines our form

You’re sinewy and shiftless and so forlorn

Between here and there and everywhere you’re torn

Craving out a piece for me, saving three for you

Squeeze me tight and that’s all

Waiting… waiting for you

To call out my name, speak to me And say that it’s alright to be on the wrong track

Call out my name, speak to me And say that it’s alright to be on the wrong track

There’s a warm breeze in the city tonight

Soft light makes every sad sight seem alright

And I’m spinning around and we’re holding tight

Soul to soul and face to face we turn…