Tori Amos. Leather.
Look, I'm standing naked before you.
Don't you want more than my sex?
I can scream as loud as your last one.
But I can't claim innocence.
Oh God, could it be the weather?
Oh God, why am I here?
If love isn't forever.
And it's not the weather.
Hand me my leather.
I could just pretend that you love me.
The night would lose all sense of fear.
But why do I need you to love me
when you can't hold what I hold dear?
Oh God, could it be the weather?
Oh God, why am I here?
If love isn't forever.
And it's not the weather.
Hand me my leather.
1991
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