Amsterdam - Daughter

Skin off like lightning

Breathing flames from thoraces tray

Your eyes go gray finding

You lock your gaze on to my face

Heavy eye clothing on the roadside

Swinging from the street lights

I hope by the morning I will have grown back

By the morning I will have grown back

I’ll escape with him

Show him all my skin

Then I’ll go

I’ll go home

Amsterdam

I’m a flying kite in the breeze just

Restlessly seeking images a child needs to help them sleep

I was thinking that I should see someone

Just to find out that I’m alright

By the morning I would’ve grown back

I’ll escape with him

Showing all my skin

Then I’ll go

I’ll go home

Amsterdam

I used to dream of

Adventure

When I was younger

With lungs miniature

Good night with killing

Our brain cells

Is this called living

Or something else

By the morning I would’ve grown back