My face breaks the sea
wash, wash over me.
An army stands guard
led by lotions and creams
What, is my beauty?
Pock-marks scar my moon tonight,
the emotions on my pock face fight.
But my faults dissolve with the sea.
Wash, wash over me.
Aug 2, 2010
Aug 2, 2010 at 9:55 AM UTC
My face breaks the sea
wash, wash over me.
An army stands guard
led by lotions and creams
What, is my beauty?
Pock-marks scar my moon tonight,
the emotions on my pock face fight.
But my faults dissolve with the sea.
Wash, wash over me.