NOTE: This one's about the Id.
it's your scent
it's on the ground
and no matter how i fight it, my instinct will hunt you down
and you roam
and you breathe
the midnight air - the spider's web
and the gust blows thru the trees
your words
are so profound
and my appetite's enticed by every syllable you sound
and you roam
and you breathe
the midnight air - the tangled web
and the gust blows thru the trees
i grope the air
my fingers clutch
your instinct to run is overcome in need of touch
and you roam
and you breathe
the midnight air - the spider's web
and the gust blows thru the trees
startled you stare - taking in all that is there
instinct to leave is now stiffled by belief