Eight Ball - Lotte Kestner

I want your silhouette:

I want you to walk beside me

Park the car somewhere

And find that white tree

My hand on your heart

To hold it in place

If I don’t get to love you

Can I still love your face?

And can I keep trying to fill

The sad wells of your eyes?

And should I tell you

That no one has slept on your side?

But sometimes the bed

Is covered in knives

Ooh…

And when I miss

Your strange beauty

And I hate my arms

For not pulling you to me

The eight ball I shook

It told me to tell you

Tell you

Ooh…