Thighs on the Sink
Verse 1 Back me in the bathroom
grin says trouble’s near, Tile is cold through socks
the light is sharp and clear. Mirror fogged with steam
shirt is halfway off, Fingers under hem
skin is getting soft. Sit upon the counter
knocking bottles down, Lotion hits the tile
making quite a sound. Thighs are open wide
knees against the chest, World is shrinking down
put it to the test.
Verse 2 Faucet dripping water, counting out the time
Hands beneath the waist
committing every crime. Speaking low and dirty
right inside the ear, Teeth upon the skin
drawing out the fear. Laughing and I swear
gripping on the hip, Skull against the wood
biting on the lip.
Pre-Chorus Not a movie scene, just bruises on the skin
Shampoo in the tub
where do we begin? Consent is in the check
asking for the “yes
” Making sense of all this heavy mess.
Chorus Thighs upon the sink, water on the floor
Neighbors hear the pipes
nothing really more. Grip the edge until the knuckles turn to white
Holding up the weight
burning in the night. Making such a mess
towels in a heap, Morning smells of soap
promises we keep. Prints upon the leg
wrapped around the waist
Nothing in the world better than the taste.
Verse 3 Yank the head right down, kiss me on the mouth
Teeth are knocking hard
heading for the south. Tell me to go slow
then beg for something fast
Trying to make the heavy feeling last. Power shifting round
like a rising tide, Holding to the sink
nowhere left to hide.
Pre-Chorus Voice is cracking when you say my name aloud
Warning and a prayer
crying to the cloud. Pause if it is wrong
switch the lane and go
Dodging all the ghosts that we used to know.
Chorus Thighs upon the sink, water on the floor
Neighbors hear the pipes
nothing really more. Grip the edge until the knuckles turn to white
Holding up the weight
burning in the night. Making such a mess
towels in a heap, Morning smells of soap
promises we keep. Prints upon the leg
wrapped around the waist
Nothing in the world better than the taste.
Bridge Sitting on the lid, wearing just my shirt
Mascara on the cheek
beautiful and hurt. Kneeling on the mat
tying up the lace, Kissing on the thigh
staying in the place. No speeches on the glass
no writing in the steam, Just two idiots
waking from the dream. Choosing us again
in the harsh white light, Bruises on the skin
everything alright.
Outro Kill the switch and go, bed springs make a squeak
Collapsing in the pile
knees are feeling weak. Bathroom door is wide
sink is wet and cold
Muscle memory is the thing we hold.