Puncture Wound
Steven Wilson
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Streets, like Prussian blues
Split the cells in my blood
Black, like the outer eye
Adrenalized by love
Glow of a cigarette
Illuminates from above
Push, push down the earth
Feel my hand through your glove
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Slump in the arbour door
Skin belongs to me
Point in perfect form
A puncture wound results
(Whisper my name)
(Whisper my name)
(Whisper my name)
(Whisper my name)