- cifra
Born under a hotel sign
Poured into the foyer like a glass of wine
Add chinatown, add soaking sheets and longing
Add distance, awful distance
My body's such an anchor
When it's wasted not being beside you
Hold to the old
True love's only for wild hearts
Blood money sweats in my hand
Tattoos on each other for strapped romance
I've waded though an ocean of sand for a grain of doubt
And I'm certain
Do you feel the way I do?
