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 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 Or something else By the morning I would've grown back By the morning I would've grown back By the morning I would've grown back By the morning I would've grown back