Her heart is in my hand It shivers like a toad She tries to understand the Tiny lump that's down Inside her throat it goes Suck suck Her face is inside out An open book report I read what she's about and she's Filled with words that hurt it goes Suck suck Her head is in my lap It twists and coughs and sings Her hair is in my grasp It hangs and swings like Swollen strings she just Suck suck Sometimes I want her in Sometimes I want her out My perception of sin Is filled with pain and fear And doubt She is not my girlfriend I'm not who you think I am Her clothes are on the ground A crumpled rainbow mass She's scattered all around And she's scattered now Like broken glass it goes Suck suck Sometimes I want her in Sometimes I want her out My perception of sin Is filled with pain and fear And doubt She is not my girlfriend I'm not who you think I am