It's not the way you fill your dress,
Bound up and painted and poised to impress.
It's not your sugar tongue or that silver ring.
It's not the way you fuck or the way you sing.
The way you cover it up,
And then you let it show.
The way you make me come,
And then you make me go.
It's not the way you look.
It's not the way you kiss.
It's what you hold in your heart.
It's what you hold in your fist.
It's not the color of your hair.
It's not in the way you make me stare.
It's not the substance in your veins.
It's just something you've got that drives me insane.
It's not the way you move your ass,
With your nails in my back that cut like glass.
It's not the way you're in my head.
It's just you and me on a burning bed.