Rattlesnake's song

The taste of your skin was a sin that my preacher had never prepared me for, I adored

Your hips and the taste of your lips like moonshine and your hair I swear so fine

I could run my hands through it like water, I ought to have left you that first night

You fell right like a weight in my ribs and I hate to admit but once I let you in

I was a dead man walking, my old life shed skin like the snakes

I loved to hold, they were cold like I thought I could be, you helped me see

And I held you like your bite just might be the death of me anyway

I stayed pinned by your hands on my wrists, understanding a language

That I had never heard, not a single word and all that was left

Was the sun and the rain and the sweet remains of the memories of a boy I once loved in the west