Touch You - The Golden Palominos

You turn your head, I rest on you

Beneath my skin, inside my bones

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

You lift your head, I press on you

The more you move the less I know

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

Heavy arms, breathing, passion, fever

The burden of joy

Flavor, rhythm, turning, sweet

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark

Temper, promises, jealousy, tears

The burden of joy

Pressure, aching, repeating, sweet

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark

The body extends like a thought

Like something you almost remember

Your memory is made of light

With your face shining like fate

Becoming something I can keep

Heavy arms, breathing, passion, fever

The burden of joy

Flavor, rhythm, turning, sweet

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark

You turn your head, I rest on you

Beneath my skin, inside my bones

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

I lie here making a weapon out of desire

You hear me from far away but

My voice does not touch you

I throw out a net, waiting to gather you in

So I can keep you like a photograph

You turn your head, I rest on you

Beneath my skin, inside my bones

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

You raise your head, I press on you

The more you move the less I know

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

With warm hands, I die, you die

Where is he, where am I

Without laughter I am dead

Dead and dead

In the pitch dark night

Arrow shot at him

Heavy arms, breathing, passion, fever

The burden of joy

Flavor, rhythm, turning, sweet

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark

Temper, promises, jealousy, tears

The burden of joy

Pressure, aching, repeating, sweet

A gift from the woman who shone in the dark

You turn your head, I rest on you

Beneath my skin, inside my bones

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

Your memory is made up of light

It takes up residence and shines out

Like a photograph of fire

Like the light of my own body in the dark

Like something you almost remember

You turn your head, I rest on you

Beneath my skin, inside my bones

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you

You lift your head, I press on you

The more you move the less I know

You guide my hand, what can I do but touch you