In the same way,
The only way I could have sense
Of what’s underneath your color
I would have to strip you off your dirty clothe
I would have to take your mind away
But I can’t strip the black off your soul
To see what’s hiding behind closed doors
I can’t see what’s hiding behind your soul
I can’t see beyond your closed doors
I have no sense at all
No sense at all
No sense at all
At all, at all, at all
Assume I can take it off your face
With some acid wash
Acid wash, acid wash
Nothing would be gained
Something else would take its place
I have no sense at all
No sense at all
No sense at all
At all, at all, at all
Perhaps you just want to say
That I could, that I could touch you all
Then I would gain more sense
We would be pushing down
Pushing down, pushing down
Pressing down
Until we sense all
Until we lose control.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem