You're red around your wrists
The air perfumed with mist
We breathe it in
You poke my ribs
I feel you in my skeleton
The silent push and pull
Rollin through the turnpike toll
Looking ahead
Some courtyard hotel
I'm so tired, so what the hell
Slip my hands-into-your winter gloves
I might be leaving on the next bus
I might be dreaming
Cause the two of us
Are old enough to know
The hallway is a frame
You call my little name
I step inside
The threshold blind
The door is open half the time
You're sitting on the edge
You say you're off to bed
It's almost dawn
My light's still on
When the day breaks grey
Will I be gone?
Slip my hands-into-your winter gloves
I might be leaving on the next bus
I might be dreaming
Cause the two of us
Are old enough to know
I must move the vase
To see your eyes across
They look just like
Chameleons
The many colors of a friend
Diamond Grinder - Skeleton Lyrics
Diamond Grinder - Skeleton Lyrics
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You're red around your wrists
The air perfumed with mist
We breathe it in
You poke my ribs
I feel you in my skeleton
The silent push and pull
Rollin through the turnpike toll
Looking ahead
Some courtyard hotel
I'm so tired, so what the hell
Slip my hands-into-your winter gloves
I might be leaving on the next bus
I might be dreaming
Cause the two of us
Are old enough to know
The hallway is a frame
You call my little name
I step inside
The threshold blind
The door is open half the time
You're sitting on the edge
You say you're off to bed
It's almost dawn
My light's still on
When the day breaks grey
Will I be gone?
Slip my hands-into-your winter gloves
I might be leaving on the next bus
I might be dreaming
Cause the two of us
Are old enough to know
I must move the vase
To see your eyes across
They look just like
Chameleons
The many colors of a friend
The air perfumed with mist
We breathe it in
You poke my ribs
I feel you in my skeleton
The silent push and pull
Rollin through the turnpike toll
Looking ahead
Some courtyard hotel
I'm so tired, so what the hell
Slip my hands-into-your winter gloves
I might be leaving on the next bus
I might be dreaming
Cause the two of us
Are old enough to know
The hallway is a frame
You call my little name
I step inside
The threshold blind
The door is open half the time
You're sitting on the edge
You say you're off to bed
It's almost dawn
My light's still on
When the day breaks grey
Will I be gone?
Slip my hands-into-your winter gloves
I might be leaving on the next bus
I might be dreaming
Cause the two of us
Are old enough to know
I must move the vase
To see your eyes across
They look just like
Chameleons
The many colors of a friend
Writer: Eli Recht-Appel, Margaret Nygard
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid