Raynaud's Hands

Raynaud's hands send a message meant for me
A quiet tryst begins with the union of a kiss
Let's steal a car and tear off through the sleet

And we talked about history and we decided we should both rewrite the book
A paperback (no heavy cargo): We'll start a cult up in Chicago
And no-one else on Earth will give a fuck

And oh
Not everything I do must have a reason
And oh
Every day with you feels like treason

We picked up a hitchhiking voodoo priest and at length, we got to talking 'bout the stars
But the engine drowned his wisdom out, and soon he asked to be let out
'Cause you were asking questions 'bout his scars

And though the day ends very much the same as how it starts
When I hold your once-cold hands to my lips again
I'd swear the heat's the sweetest function of the heart
I'd swear the heat's the sweetest function of the heart
I'd swear the heat's the sweetest function of the heart



Credits
Writer(s): Crook
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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