I can feel the joints in these old hands
I can feel the joints in these old hands
and if I was to ever kill a man
and if I was to ever confess
I still see the sun behind the skin of my
eyelids
I still see the sun behind the skin of my
eyelids
I still see the sun behind the skin
My eyelashes catch bursts of dust
from old antique words I just watched
you blow off and use again
I just heard you use the same old words
again
Like a moth to flame
I am not to blame
Cause you opened up that door
In the fucking first place
I can feel the joints in these old hands
I can feel the joints in these old hands
and if I was to ever kill a man
and if I was to ever confess
Like a moth to flame
I am not to blame
Cause you opened up that door
In the fucking first place
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