Gloves In Gray Viktor Shiroglazov

I flayed my body in the morning grey
Let the pain flood the cold floor
I sewed you gloves in a clumsy way
Stabbed every finger and bled some more

Put them on when you have to touch
Rotten flesh or burning chains
No sickness will ever get through that much
You are safe inside my stains

They will keep you warm in winter's rage
I know your name and you know mine
I always stood ready to turn the page
To be your second skin in the hard time

Put them on when you have to touch
Rotten flesh or burning chains
No sickness will ever get through that much
You are safe inside my stains

But neither you nor me will be a cure
More like arsenic in a glass of wine
You are a mad invention I couldn't endure
A fever dream at 3 AM when I lost my mind