Moon-less Night

We're breathing stale cigarettes
And a smile is still on our lips
Your skirt pulled up to your hips
Drinks on the floor not to be missed
A vodka sting still on your kiss
We live life with a little bit of risk
We leave the living room couch still tipped
On our own clothes we trip
Your nails dig into the wall you grip
Right at the same time inside I slip
Others would find us to be so sick
Because heaven for us is so subject
But we can make hell fell like heaven just yet

Demons of demons
Feeling without meaning
Closed eyes still dreaming
Fast breaths silently needing
In darkness your eyes are gleaming
More pressure and force your screaming
Demons of demons
Let lust be our feeding