On the Edge Of

Four, five, six

Soft from your lips, to the rise of your stomach
Your long filthy fingers keep jamming words down my throat
Nothing to steal we've got nothing to love
Nothing to spill because, oh, we're so innocent

On, on the edge of
On, on the edge of
Ah-ah

I could have built you a house on the ocean
The ocean repeating, receding into the sun
So cut to you Daniel, now cut to the live feed
Cut through our bodies, at last bleeding into one

Oh, on the edge of
Oh-oh, on the edge of

Oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh
Oh



Credits
Writer(s): George Alan Sparhawk, Zak Micheletti, Mimi J Parker
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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