Cool Living - On Tiptoe | Текст песни

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• Cool Living
• On Tiptoe

We put a bench at the end of the field
So we can meet at the bench and whisper
Things we are afraid to say out loud.
Here is my mouth
There is yours.
We feed each other
Names and cures.
My body ends where
Your body begins.

I held a rock in my hand
You once said you want to store it in your throat
So I put my hand on your mouth,
and put my mouth on your skin.

We walk
We walk
I keep repeating as I talk.
You nod politely.

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