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Wasp nest

par The National

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You´re cussing a storm in a cocktail dress your mother wore when she was young
Red sun saint around your neck
A wet martini in a paper cup
You´re a wasp nest, you´re a wasp nest.

Your eyes are broken bottles
And I´m afraid to ask
And all your wrath and cutting beauty
You´re poison in the pretty glass
You´re a wasp nest, you´re a wasp nest

You´re all humming live wires under your killing clothes.
Get over here, I wanna kiss your skinny throat
You´re a wasp nest, you´re a wasp nest
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