Foxing
laundered
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Sweet debility; the Macallan in my glass
Honey beads from those ardent eyes
So here I sit, flooded in molasses
Every dollop of sweat swells in your light
So call me what you will, just calm me
Call me what I am, Iâm yours
Laundered each saccharine stain
Every word until the purity burns
The sugar drips until your name soaks in my brain
I canât stand to be rid of you
So call me what you will, just calm me
Call me what I am, Iâm yours