Behind my eyes, I trace my fingers along your skin
like the longing touch of an artist with pen,
craving for the taste of perfection.

To see the stroke of passion on paper,
like the faintest moan within my ear...
The time to forget a troubled past.
A fleeting ecstasy to hopefully last,
enough to turn these dreams into sweat and drown the thoughts of remorse and regret.

Oh let me silence the demon's scream and hear only burning in our eyes.
We'll run away at close of day and rage like thunder in the skies.