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• Artiste: Assembly Of Dust
• Titre: Whistle Clock
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Laughing bright eyed in the grass I smelled your scent as your body passed dreading Monday at Sunday noon you'll be returning here none too soon The touch of a supple woman The love of a dog soaking in simple pleasures Like a crack in the fog I saw pressure come pouring out I cut you open and let it out Then comes the piston stroke again compressing muscle like oxygen The purr of a perfect lover The curve of a song soaking in simple pleasure like a crack in the fog You may serve them roses you may serve their delight but when the working day closes I sing you sweetly goodnight You duck your head when the Banchee screams and pray for days shorter than they seem then comes the whistle clock again you wanna leave but your legs can't bend Still serving roses serving roses and red