Daughters - The Theatre Goer | Текст песни

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• Daughters
• The Theatre Goer

Six million jaws hit the theatre floor.
As I rest my hand in something wet and warm.
I feel you watching from the corner of your eye.
If you move closer to me. I won't mind.

Just make it last. It's your skin, your hands, your face that's coming on.
But it's regret that makes the cab ride home such a drag.

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