Because The Night

Sand beneath your tongue

Hold your body warm.

Grip your pillow tight,

Keeps you warm at night.

Papa don't say my woes,

Now I'm a whore

Papa don't sell my soul

Now I'm a whore

Grass between your toes,

Gusty winds that blow

Jellyfish in the sea,

Papa don't say my woes,

Now I'm a whore.

Papa don't sell my soul,

Now I'm a whore.

Papa don't say my woes,

Now I'm a whore.

Papa don't sell my soul,