Blood from a Beating Heart-Primitive Radio Gods

she can't dig holes with a shovelshe won't shake hands with the deviland when she's caught in the middleshe pulls away and it feels[chorus]like a north wind breezin' your body againlike a slow day makin' it's way in the darkto a mouth where the feelings startrushing out like the blood from a beating heartshe holds the neck of the bottleher every thought is a riddleyou try to rise to the levelyou sink back down and it feels[chorus]a strange and delicate creaturewho only lives if you love herinvites you to swim in her riverand leaves you under the earth[chorus]like a north windlike a slow sayto a mouth where the feelings startrushing out like the blood from a beating heart.