I‘m so uncool
that my fingers almost burn.
They‘ve been known to strip
the skin like the sun.
Come & touch me brave heart
with your velvet skin;
you‘re playing games with me
you‘ll never win.
You spill tempting lies, silver,
like fishes on the sand,
and I‘m almost
believing you;
you‘re playing games with me
and you will lose.
You drape mystery lightly,
like gauze around you head,
and capture the midday
sun in your eyes.
The sweetmess in your face
it lies so easily
- if I believed in you
I‘d lose me.
I‘ll eat you alive,
oh & you can hardly wait,
but I know that your face
holds you
with a surer touch
than I ever could,
or ever wanted to;
believe me we‘re on our own.
And it‘s just you..