You turn your head, I rest on you 

Beneath my skin, inside my bones 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



You lift your head, I press on you 

the more you move the less I know 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



Heavy arms, breathing, passion, fever 

The burden of joy 

Flavor, rhythm, turning, sweet 

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark 



Temper, promises, jealousy, tears 

The burden of joy 

Pressure, aching, repeating, sweet 

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark 



The body extends like a thought 

Like something you almost remember 

Your memory is made of light 

With your face shining like fate 

Becoming something I can keep 



Heavy arms, breathing, passion, fever 

The burden of joy 

Flavor, rhythm, turning, sweet 

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark 



You turn your head, I rest on you 

Beneath my skin, inside my bones 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



I lie here making a weapon out of desire 

You hear me from far away but 

My voice does not touch you 

I throw out a net, waiting to gather you in 

So I can keep you like a photograph 



You turn your head, I rest on you 

Beneath my skin, inside my bones 


You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



You raise your head, I press on you 

the more you move the less I know 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



With warm hands, I die, you die, 

Where is he, where am I, 

Without laughter I am dead, 

Dead and dead 

In the pitch dark night 

Arrow shot at him 



Heavy arms, breathing, passion, fever 

The burden of joy 

Flavor, rhythm, turning, sweet 

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark 



Temper, promises, jealousy, tears 

The burden of joy 

Pressure, aching, repeating, sweet 

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark 



You turn your head, I rest on you 

Beneath my skin, inside my bones 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



Your memory is made up of light 

It takes up residence and shines out 

Like a photograph of fire 

Like the light of my own body in the dark 

Like something you almost remember 



You turn your head, I rest on you 

Beneath my skin, inside my bones 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you 



You lift your head, I press on you 

the more you move the less I know 

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you