Handshake in Your Mouth Songtext
von East of the Wall

The distant mock of warmth: an aftertaste of the bodies′ greeting collision.
You'll never feel that again.

I thought I saw a rising tide dissolving the streets, and leaving blank shores.
I strained to hear the distant waves encroaching, eroding wood and home.

I can′t recall the sound of footsteps, the scent of skin.
It washed away with the taste of ashes. I grind my teeth but it's gone.

As we walk, we'll pass through the last of night, sick with dust and smiles.
The mock of warmth: you′ll never feel that again.