Brett Anderson - Wheatfields lyrics

Outside the wind is raging, blowing the Wheatfield's 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 Wheatfield's away And now the game is changing, and now the rules are thrown away And now the rules are thrown away Away, away, away