Wheatfields Lyrics - Slow Attack - Brett Anderson

Outside the wind is raging, blowing the Wheatfields away 

And now the game is changing, and now the rules are thrown away 

And the cards are turning, and my mouth is dry 

As her dress is falling before my eyes, my eyes 

My eyes 

And now the hands are turning, and now the clocks are changing 

Beauty is on the mattress, lifting the patterns from her skin 

And the clothes are falling, and her breast is mine 

And her skin is holy, like the sky, like the sky 

The sky 

And the clothes are falling, and our mouths are dry 

And our skin is holy, like the sky, like the sky 

The sky 

Outside the wind is raging, blowing the Wheatfields away 

And now the game is changing, and now the rules are thrown away 

And now the rules are thrown away