I've lost my grace tonight with whiskey
& sitting patient on a plane
I'm driven crazy by your face
& how it's swallowing my brain
I feel so
i n a p p r o p r i a t e
with the things I want to say
my hands are idle with intention
& your spine's calling my name
who do I blame this on tonight
for wanting you so bad
my nails are living for the day
they trace the inside of your back
I cannot focus now at all
I've got these i d e a s like scripture
I'm drawing down the halls I've fallen on
to make a perfect picture
the thought of you exhausts me
& I'm not ready for your swoon
for this my hands they do profess
under your dress
in your bedroom