Table Manners

I will build a crown of wires
For only you to wear for me
I'll keep the sharp edges in my hand
Staining red the sand

I tend to find my lovers in a trance
Imagine how your synapse would dance
Pushing and pulling away

An electric calm
Blood in the palm
Your crown suits you
An electric calm



Credits
Writer(s): Joe Conboy
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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