Transistor Transistor /

There's a Fine Line

The sex made sense at the time. it's hard to steer with your teeth on the wheel. it's hard to keep the road off of your eyes. the sex made sense at the time. her eyes roll like two inch reel and you confess you love her lips like a crime. and it was, oh it was. they say the sex made sense, sex made sense, but now the drama drips from their thighs. the way he sinks to sleep is both sweet and pathetic. she just sinks slow like california into the pacific.