Piel

Cold, will be cold enough to Lead my trail up to your warmth Gather ages in just one sore And keep, keep your taste on my lips Let them rest there From your breath To all tides held in your chest Where body has meaning A scent from core Beloved by word Untold by cold May my frail singing melt On your golden skin Will He fit you? Will He fit you? May my frail singing dress All your golden skin Will He fit you? Will He fit you? Warm, now it's warm enough to Spread your taste to all seas Carve your skin on every tree To chase the first meaning What is kept in bone Neither touched by word Nor reached by cold May my frail singing melt On your golden skin Will He fit you? Will He fit you? May my frail singing dress All your golden skin Wish He'd fit you Wish He'd fit you