Alabaster Rind

Chipping away at your facade
cracks begin to form.
I wanna see right through your
alabaster rind.
Show me that beating heart baby,
I've got a gentle touch
and can hold it just right.
I fear I'm flying so close to the sun
I'll crystalize,
so when the taste of your skin leaves me paralyzed,
I'll take the passenger side
and let the sparks ignite.