(Matt Embree's side project, Love You Moon)
At arm's length stabbed with a pocket knife.
Two and one half inches sure won't strike... an organ, but it sure feels like.
Groping in the dark, waiting for the day
I can't share.
You can use my flesh,
if you don't mind I think I'll step right out.
Slip it off so I can't feel Los Angeles,
and my replacement's parts nuzzling your guts. I can't share.
Ocean nights and skies are the in-betweens.
The untouchable when everything seems.
To be drawing the shades and laying down to rest, the thought that this much effort will ever be attempted again. I can't share.
You can use my flesh,
if you don't mind I think I'll step right out.
Slip it off so I can't feel Los Angeles,
and my replacement's parts nuzzling your guts. I can't share.
(Ooooooh ooooh ooooooh oooooh ooh)
Salty sweet on the sand, my friend.
Late may's gaze that stole my soul again.
Kisses for all your insides, a smile for the priceless.
I bit through your wrists, watched your blood bathe the crabs. I can't share.
You can use my flesh,
if you don't mind I think I'll step right out.
Slip it off so I can't feel Los Angeles,
and my replacement's parts nuzzling your guts. I can't share.