Из альбома: Merriweather Post Pavilion
When you claw me like a cat, I'm beaming
I like the way you squeeze my hand
Pulling me into another dream,
A lucid dream
I'm getting lost in your curls
I'm getting crushed out on the things
That only I should see
Not for boys, they're just for me
Hurry to talk, from far away
Put on the dress that I like
It makes me so crazy, though I can't say why
Keep on your stockings for a while
Some kind of magic in the way you're lying there