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Skin & Soul

There are two men standing on the road.
Inspecting my skin and soul.
The backroom boys wait for the call.

And stepping up my rise and fall.

But I ask the dark side to do me a favour.
And sun approach keeps alive my fever.
So please let the scars in my head.
‘Cause I don’t want to reflect my illness.

You’re sittin’pretty, bring me down.
The sight of blood just makes me good.
It’s never ending inside fight.
Can I control my changin’ mood ?

You can scratch all my skin, you can disclose my sins.
Something grown up in me I did not expect so far.
Private talk with the moon, I try to feed up my soul.