Skunk Anansie
Miscellaneous
The Song I Write For You
There is no contact of anything with mucosa and yet I become infected with you,
that arrives and brings desires and dizziness
/>in passionate verses addressed to me;
and offer your mysterious essence as a gift,
which was a fleeting sparkle a few nights ago;
and my sighs are quick to come alive
br/>which on the walls go to tell you I would like here.
This is the song I write for you:
I promised it and here it is.
Can you see yourself? yes, you are there,
before I knew you.
(Now I have your splendid smile to suck on:
shine with happiness.
I observe it from your vain forehead
/>who asked my kisses for ownership).
Pure frigid waters from these eyes that always miss you
Nothing but violence from my empty gun
I'm using silverto light up these blackheart faces
blinding your fingers whit my skin that burns for you.
This is the song I write for you:
I promised it and here it is.
Can you see yourself? Yes, you are,
just as I know you.
This song is for me
I listen like I promised you
I can see me in your words from hell
that you write for me.
And I have your hands to let me caress my heart
immune from defenses that are useless.
But now I have in my head the face of someone more special than me,< br/>who can sing but has more coats of arms to burnish than me
.....and this is your entertainment.
As far as I'm concerned you are an forgotten continent.
for that I basically liked what I saw.
Don't, don't tell me. What you want from me
No, don't tell me. I don't wanna hear. Don't tell me.
This is the song I write for you:
I promised it and here it is.
Can you see yourself? You are no longer here,
after I met you.
This song is for me...

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